


Notice the Signs

by Saturn_the_Almighty



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: ASL, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drinking, Fluff, I just want them to be happy, Injury Recovery, It's never too late to be Queer, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of past Chucker, Minor Angst, Mostly Blue Team, Mute Wash, Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Character, Parties, Post-Canon, Rating May Change, S15 Spoilers, Self-Discovery, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Slow realization, Temporarily Mute Character, This is mostly just happy and sweet, Tuckington - Freeform, goddamnit so slow to update, i'll add more tags as they become relevant, mentions of injury, minor hurt/comfort, post s15, wash needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-14 22:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13017270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturn_the_Almighty/pseuds/Saturn_the_Almighty
Summary: Wash has just gotten out of the hospital after his injury. Tucker helps him get used to everything that's changed.98% Tuckington fluff1.4% Angst.6% Everything else





	1. Glad To Be Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash wakes up after his injury. Tucker learns ASL.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to fit this into the He looks good in Red universe but it just wasn't working. Sam is still a Red in this though. Enjoy and don't forget to comment!

Wash woke up in a hospital bed. He hated hospitals. Hospitals reminded him of Freelancer. Wait. What if this was... He searched around frantically for anything that would indicate he was back in Freelancer. He ignored the frantic beeping of the heart monitor beside his bed, alerting him that his heart rate was spiking.

First he noticed the lights. Freelancer had round lights. These were square, inset into the ceiling. His heartbeat slowed, the monitor calmed down. Then he noticed the curtains. The thin hospital curtains shielding him from the rest of the world.

They were a soft blue like ~~_like εpsil_~~ Kimball's visor. Kimball. General Kimball from Chorus. She wasn't from Freelancer. Freelancer had green curtains. They were flimsy and papery and not a nice green like mint ice cream or the accents on North's armor. Not like Delta's little glowing avatar ~~_εpsilon had a blue one like the curtai_~~  or Georgia's watermelon colored armor.

Freelancer had curtains the color of the one green crayon Caboose refused to use. Like the color of the mold he once found in the base at crash site bravo. He hated the hospitals with green curtains. The curtains he was looking at were _blue_. Blue like Kimball's visor. Blue like the sky on Reprise, the moon where he lived now.

So why wasn't he there? Why wasn't he on his little moon, surrounded by friends? Why was he in a quiet hospital surrounded by curtains the color ~~_of εpsil_~~  of the sky?

Wash pressed his hands to his temples and tried to think back. Tried to remember what had happened. He remembered Temple. His armor was locked, he couldn't itch his nose. Then he was freed. Locus freed them. He was sitting against a wall, his head fuzzy, but there was _Maine_. Wash had called Maine Big Bird. He remembered how much it used to drive Maine crazy when Wash called him Big Bird.

Maine's helmet used to look a little like a chicken.

Wash remembered getting up, listening to Carolina's voice and feeling like he was underwater. He was delirious. And then he heard Tucker's voice cutting through the water, sounding clearer than ever before and he had turned around and- That was it. He didn't remember anything else. What had happened? Why was he here? Did he get hurt did he ge-

Wash sat up and a searing pain shot down his spine. He tried to shout but no sound would come out. He couldn't speak. He couldn't speak, he couldn't speak, just like Maine, just like Big Bird. He couldn't speak. What had happened? Wash felt around his throat, his fingers grabbing at bandages. So many bandages. His neck was wrapped completely. He couldn't turn his head. He couldn't lean back without it hurting. His throat was dry and it hurt _so much_.

What had happened to him? Did the Reds and Blues get Temple? Did they find out what he was? Over the loud rushing of blood in his ears, Wash heard the heart monitor acting up again.

Oh, he was panicking. He should stop.

Wash tried to lay back down, to rest again but it hurt his neck too much and he needed to find out if his friends were okay. "Oh good, you're up Washington." Dr. Grey pulled back the delicate curtain and stepped into Wash's little shroud of blue. "It's a good thing I heard that monitor or you'd be sitting here all day." She wasn't wearing armor. Short brown hair, streaked with silver, framed her face. She had thick rimmed glasses on, purple like her armor. Her eyes looked tired but caring as they skimmed whatever was written on the clipboard she held. She clicked her pen once, twice.

Wash opened his mouth to speak, but closed it just as quickly. He couldn't say anything. Dr. Gray caught his movement.

"Oh, don't worry, you'll be able to speak again. It won't be the same as your Freelancer buddy. Do you remember what happened?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. Wash nodded slowly but pointed to his throat. She seemed to get the message. "Oh yes, here you are," she said, grabbing a datapad from the bedside table. She handed it to Wash and he navigated to the notepad. Then he began typing. It was then he realized how much his hand were shaking. Dr. Grey waited patiently while he got control of his hands and finished writing.

Wash held the datapad up so she could see. "Something happened. I got hurt."

Dr. Grey nodded. "Quite badly, in fact. But, it could have been worse. You were shot once through the neck. Only your vocal cords were damaged, along with your esophagus and your windpipe." She paused and looked Wash straight in the eyes. "But as I said, it could have been worse. That bullet came dangerously close to hitting your spinal cord. But I patched you up just fine. Thanks to me, your voice should come back in at earliest, a month. You need to be more careful."

Wash froze. The heart monitor freaked out again. He picked at one of the bandages on his neck. He could have died? Wash wasn't incredibly surprised. He had done so many reckless things in the past, he was more surprised he'd made it this far. Tucker was always telling him he was a cockroach. He had broken most of the bones in his body several times as was objectively fine. But now he had a team again, people who he knew relied on him and cared about him. What if he _had_  died?

And a month without his voice? He relied on his speech more than he thought. He had to constantly keep telling Tucker not to sleep naked, he had to remind Caboose not to leave his crayons in the sun... Were they okay?

Dr. Grey shocked him out of his thoughts with a polite cough. Wash fumbled with the datapad as he hastily tried to type out a question.

"Are they okay?"

Dr. Grey nodded without hesitation. "Oh yes. Your friends, all of them, are perfectly fine. They should be back on Reprise waiting for you when you're well enough to be up and about. I didn't let them stay. But... Captain Tucker was adamant about remaining here and waiting until you woke up." Dr. Grey chuckled. "He was scared out of his mind when he got here and you were in surgery."

Wash was starting to get tired of the heart monitor beeping away. He tried to ease himself back in bed again and winced at the pain. Dr. Grey helped him down with a sympathetic smile. "Alright. I'm just going to do a routine check-up, then I'll let Captain Tucker know you're awake. I'm sure if I'd let them, your whole team- or rather, both of them would be here. But it would get far too crowded. I'm sure they're all exhausted after everything."

Dr. Grey made conversation with herself while she made sure Wash was okay. Aside from the apparently destroyed throat he now had. Wait. Everything that had happened? Wash needed to know what was going on. What _had_  gone on while he was passed out from a bullet to the throat. Dr. Grey had him open his mouth so she could peer inside and check for signs of infection. There were none. Good, at least now he wouldn't die from infection.

Wash's breathing was a little ragged. His windpipe had taken some damage too. It was minimal, but enough to make Wash paranoid about choking to death on his own lack of breath, no matter how many times Dr. Grey assured him it wouldn't happen. She tapped her pan a few times on her clipboard and hummed thoughtfully. "Well, everything seems to be in order. I'm going to keep you overnight just to be sure, but you should be good to go home in the morning!"

Dr. Grey's sing-song voice seemed genuinely happy for him. "Try not to move your neck much. I'll get you a brace when you're ready to go tomorrow." Wash smiled. He still held his datapad in front of him and typed out a simple message. "Thank you." Dr. Grey smiled. "I'm glad I could help. It is my job, after all. But it would do you some good to thank the man who brought you here. I'll see if I can send him in too."

Dr. Grey winked at him and left, pushing aside the curtain. It made a papery sound, not so grating as the ones in Freelancer but like it was made of leaves. Wash sat in his silent blue cocoon, thinking about all he must have missed. He had forgotten to ask Dr. Grey how long he was out. He didn't know what had happened after he got shot or who had brought him here. But all that could wait, he decided, as the sound of Tucker's footsteps got louder.

He knew that sound by heart now. He head heard it so many times outside his door in the middle of the night, or behind him in an attempt to sneak up on him. Then the curtain slid aside again and there he was.

Tucker's hair was getting a bit long. It was no longer the perfect buzz cut. Tiny curls bounced on his head as he approached Wash's bed. A smile brighter than the sun graced his face. He had dark circles under his chocolate eyes that probably rivaled Wash's own. He was out of armor, wearing a short sleeved shirt that exposed his arms and the shimmering blue tattoos that ran up his right. The tattoos were some kind of side effect of the sword... Or maybe a side effect of being the father of an alien child.

They didn't glow like the sword. They shimmered like the shell of those beetles Caboose liked to find. They shimmered with energy, thin swirling lines that almost followed the trails of his veins. Tucker stopped by the edge of Wash's bed and looked down at him.

"Hey." One word. A simple greeting. It shattered the silence in Wash's tiny blue cocoon and he smiled up at Tucker. He wished he could say 'Hey' back. He could pick up his datapad and type out the word in electric blue letters. Or he could think back and remember the times when he sat at Maine's bedside and made simple gestures to him. When Maine couldn't speak so they'd learned ASL together.

Wash brought his hand up to his head and moved it away again, like a sloppy salute. Maine had said it meant 'hello'. Tucker's smile brightened. He sat down on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on Wash's leg. Wash's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he had _real_  human contact. They were always in armor, always separated by thick layers of Kevlar and metal. Dr. Grey's touches didn't feel real.

Tucker's hand was warm. It was heavy, grounding. He missed this. He missed the tingly feeling of Tucker's tattooed hand. Tucker took his eyes off Wash for a second and glanced at the datapad sitting on Wash's lap. "What's that for?" he asked. His voice was quieter than Wash remembered. Maybe it was the silence of the curtains that made him want to keep it that way.

Wash picked up the datapad and typed for a while, feeling Tucker's gaze back on him. "Can't speak. You don't know ASL. We can communicate like this until I'm better." He showed Tucker the screen and watched as he read it carefully. "Okay... That's..." Tucker started moving hand slowly up and down Wash's leg. "Fuck, I was so worried about you. I thought the last moments I would get to spend with you would be ten feet away screaming your name."

Tucker gave a dry laugh. "I lost it. Almost got us all killed because I was fucking stupid." He looked over at Wash again. He couldn't keep his eyes off him. Wash wrote something out. "What happened?" Tucker sighed. "Ah fuck. A lot. We found out Temple tried to kill you, the bastard. And then he tried to blow up the Earth. It was insane." Tucker moved to sit down next to Wash, to rest his head against the pillow. Wash let him. "And we followed him there. To Earth. It turns out, the dumb AI from Blood Gulch, Vic, he saved us. Killed himself in the process... Like Church and Epsilon."

Wash smirked. "What's up with AI and sacrificing themselves to save their friends?" he typed. Tucker snorted. "I dunno, Wash." He moved a bit closer. "Caboose got to say goodbye to Church. Not εpsilon... Alpha. Church. Our Church. Don't tell him, but I might have cried. It was a good speech. And that's saying something, considering he couldn't form a coherent sentence two days ago." Wash raised his eyebrow. "Goodbye? To church? How? He's gone," he typed.

Tucker watched him. "Oh, yeah. Loco's crazy contraption was also a time machine." Wash frowned. He was somehow more lost than he was before Tucker tried to explain. Maybe he should just ask everyone else, get their stories and piece it together that way. He couldn't wait until tomorrow. He would be back on his little moon with his team. His friends. His family.

"You know, I'm not that good at telling this story. You should just read Andrews' report," Tucker was full-on leaning on Wash's shoulder now. He was trying to find Wash's hand without making it obvious. Wash found his first. He could feel the callouses on Tucker's fingers. He could feel the energy pulsing from the tattoos. His grip was warm and safe. He pulled Wash's hand to his chest and held it there against his heart. "I missed you... David."

And that was it. The heart monitor was screaming at him now, he could feel the weight of Tucker against his shoulder. Carolina had called him David before, so had the Counselor. The Director had once. This was different. Was didn't even think he had told Tucker his name. Hearing him say it made him realize how much he liked it. When Carolina said it, it wasn't the same. It felt natural. Why? Why did it sound so _right_  when Tucker said it? Wash had become so confused ever since he woke up. Tucker tore himself away from Wash's shoulder, panic in his eyes.

"What's happening? Are you okay?" He was staring at the heart monitor and still holding on to Wash's hand. Then he let go and the beeping started to die down. Tucker glanced over at Wash.

Oh. It was him. He was touching Wash a bit too much. How could he forget? Wash was super sensitive about touch. No wonder he was uncomfortable. Tucker waited until the beeping was quiet again before he sat down again, this time back on the edge of the bed. He didn't touch Wash. He sat stiffly and didn't say a word. He didn't _know_  what to say.

Wash suddenly didn't like the silence in little cocoon. He couldn't talk himself, so he needed to make Tucker say something. "Who brought me here? Dr. Grey said she'd send him in," Wash wrote out on his datapad. Tucker seemed to become even more stiff. "Oh. He's not even on the planet. He's... On Reprise with the rest of them. He'll come get us tomorrow. Then you can see him." Wash had a feeling Tucker didn't exactly _like_  whoever it was that saved him.

He and Tucker sat and talked for hours. Wash managed to get Tucker to relax a bit, even if he stayed on the edge of the bed. Wash found out he was in a hospital in New Armonia. The lieutenants were doing well. Tucker saw Carolina and Kimball holding hands a week ago. Junior was going to visit during summer break. Everything was... Good. As good as it could be. A nurse came in once to give Wash a tray of food. Huh. Chorus had food now. Real food, not military sanctioned ration bars. Tucker stole half the apple off his tray.

Wash got tired of typing around hour five. His fingers hurt. It took too long to write out every word. ASL would be so much simpler. So wash typed out one more sentence to Tucker. "Let me teach you ASL." Tucker looked up from the weird alien rubix icosahedron he was playing with.

He read Wash's message with rising interest. "Yes," he said without a second thought. "Yes please. I don't want to read anything else you say," he sighed. "No offense." there was a grin on his face. Wash missed that grin. It was annoying, but oddly endearing. He pulled up a webpage on simple ASL phrases and made himself comfortable. This was going to take a while.

* * *

 

Wash thought it was going to take some time to teach Tucker the basics. He didn't think he would get it immediately. He didn't think they'd be having full conversations by the time he realized they had been up all night. Tucker was a fast learner.

Wash got his breakfast and ate slowly while Tucker tried to figure out the best way to sign his signature phrase 'Bow chicka bow wow.' He eventually settled on just the initials. BCBW. By the time Dr. Grey came by with a neck brace and a smile, Tucker had managed to work it into their conversation twice. Dr. Grey found it nice that they could converse silently. It made Tucker seem less like he was talking to himself, and it gave them the slightest bit of 'privacy'.

Wash was just happy to finally get out of the hospital. It was several _thousand_  steps up from Freelancer, but he still didn't like it. He hadn't seen real starlight since... Since right before he got shot. Dr. Grey watched him as he got out of bed and stood on shaky legs. It took him a minute to get used to it, but he was dressed and ready to go within the next twenty minutes. "Ready?" Rucker signed when Wash lifted the blue curtain and stepped out of his silent blue cocoon. "Yes" Wash signed back.

Together, they made their way past the mostly empty beds and out into the bright starlight of Chorus. Wash had to squint, it was so blinding. Tucker led them down the street past people, armored and not, down to the airport. New Armonia had a proper one. The first thing he noticed was the glowing orange alien ship. The second thing he noticed was the two people standing next to it, waiting.

Carolina was in armor, but her helmet was tucked under one arm and her short red hair looked freshly dyed. As he got closer, Wash could make out the long scar running across her cheeks, over her nose and ending on her left ear. She smiled at him. Kimball, General Kimball of Chorus, who's visor was the color of the hospital curtains, who's people had rebelled against Charon and _won their freedom_... Kimball was indeed holding Carolina's hand. Just like Tucker had said.

She smiled too, maybe not just because of Wash. Tucker waved to them as the approached the alien ship. The alien ship who's pilot was walking down the gangway right now. The pilot wearing grey armor which no longer had the telltale green X painted across the helmet. The pilot who had saved him from dying in his locked armor and who _must have_  saved him from dying when he was bleeding out from his throat.

Wash stopped. He turned to Tucker, pointed over at Locus and signed "He saved me?" Tucker glanced back at the ship, at Locus, at Kimball and Carolina and back to Wash. "Yes." Wash nodded.

Okay then. That was a good sign. Locus really was trying to change. But he knew that from the moment he unlocked his and Carolina's armor. Tucker had walked ahead and was leaning against the ship looking borderline sulky while he watched Locus load up supplies. Carolina restrained herself from running to meet Wash.

"Hey Wash. I'm glad you're okay," she said, her voice stiff. Wash nodded. "I missed you too, Carolina" he signed. It took her a moment to decipher his signed but she nodded. "Oh, right. Kimball told me you wouldn't be able to speak for a month." She gave him a smile. "But we've been through worse, right?" Wash nodded. Yep... So much worse.

Carolina walked with him to the ship and turned to say goodbye to Kimball. Wash found himself staring at Locus. He was still in full armor, of course, but he seemed more laid back. His posture wasn't as rigid, he wasn't constantly glancing behind him and he didn't have his sniper strapped to his back. Wash caught Locus' helmet turned towards him and quickly signed 'thanks'. Locus cocked his head. Oh, right. He pointed to Tucker who was still leaning against the ship.

"He says thanks," Tucker mumbled. Locus gave them both a curt nod and finished loading up the last supplies. Wash went to stand by Tucker and wait for Carolina to say goodbye. She and Kimball both had their helmets back on and Carolina lightly bumped her visor against Kimball's. Wash could have sworn that would have been a kiss if not for the military grade plastic and metal separating them.

Kimball's shoulders moved like she was laughing and Carolina punched her arm playfully. It meant the world to him seeing Carolina happy. Seeing _anyone_  he cared about happy. Locus ushered them all onto the ship and Carolina let her hand linger in Kimball's before letting go and jogging towards them. She blew Kimball a kiss when she thought no one was looking.

Carolina was silent for most of the trip. She had her datapad out and looked like she was messaging someone. Tucker was much more talkative. Well, he was singing like crazy. He clearly wasn't aware that Carolina also knew ASL. Most of what he said was gossip about her and Kimball. Wash tried to keep a straight face during all of it. He caught sight of Carolina staring in disbelief as Tucker fired off a long string of signs about what the lieutenants thought of Kimball's 'girlfriend'.

Tucker would also sign about silly things. Just something to occupy Wash's thoughts and expand his ASL vocabulary. "Sam joined Red Team," Tucker singed about halfway through their flight. "He likes it there, and I think it's fair for them to have _one_  badass. We have you two." he pointed to Wash and Carolina. Carolina smiled. Wash smiled too. He  _was_  pretty badass after all.

"Thanks," he signed. Tucker winked at him. "It's true. You're a badass with a great ass." Carolina fell into a fit of laughter. She doubled over and clutched at her stomach. "Oh my god! Smooth, Tucker!" She said between giggles.

Wash had to explain to Tucker that she could also understand ASL. His eyes went wide. "Shit" he signed. Tucker didn't talk about Kimball for the rest of the flight. "Oops, I think I scared him into silence," Carolina joked after Tucker didn't say a word for ten minutes. Tucker elbowed her. "No, you did not. I just ran out of things to say."

Wash highly doubted that. He knew full well Tucker had things he wanted to say. But he couldn't speak out loud and Carolina would pick up on whatever he signed. Clearly he was just waiting until they were alone.

The ship landed on Reprise half an hour later. Everyone was there, even Kai. Wash stepped off the ship and was almost crushed by Caboose's enthusiastic bearhug. Wash winced as his neck brace strained against Caboose's chest.

Eventually, Tucker pried Caboose's arms away and Wash was able to breathe again. The Reds gave him a less enthusiastic but equally sweet group hug, careful to avoid his neck, and then told him to never do that again or Sarge would shoot him himself.

Wash was overwhelmed with joy. His smile never left his face for the rest of the day. Caboose apologized for hurting his neck. The two sat and made sandcastles on the beach and Wash listened to Caboose's stories about Carolina and Tucker. He heard the story of Carolina trying to cook. She had gotten better at it since Freelancer, but somehow, despite her intense focus, she managed to horribly burn everything. Wash heard the story of Tucker and his attempt to try and learn how to play the guitar. He had mentioned once to Caboose that he needed something to take his mind off Wash.

Caboose said that Tucker was very bad at playing the guitar. Wash made a mental note to teach him one day. The skills he learned from York couldn't go to waste. Donut made Wash sit down and get a manicure (for the first time in months) while they talked about boys. Or rather, Donut would go on about that one cute boy he met in Armonia and Wash would give him a few nods of encouragement.

Wash left Red Base with a fresh coat of gray nail polish and more knowledge of Donut's love life than he ever wanted to know. Grif pretended he didn't care wether Wash was okay or not, but passed him a single Oreo and made a gesture that was just short of demanding eternal silence. He said it was Simmons' idea. Wash got caught up on the events after Locus took him away.

The story became clearer with every person he asked. They each sat down and told him their own version. Each of them sounded like heroes.

Wash managed to convince everyone to leave him alone for a while and he walked up the cliff to the flower fields. It was the best place for him to sit and think. There was a slight breeze, the star was setting over the lake and he could see Refrain, just a sliver in the sky.

He was glad to be home. Home, on his little moon with his family.

He was glad to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just an excuse for me, because I just really love the idea of Wash and Tucker signing stupid things at eachother from across the room.
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment, I love those.


	2. Admit To Being Fragile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caboose is a great friend. Tucker has nightmares too.

Wash should have known his first night back wouldn't be easy. Nights rarely were for him. Maybe being unconscious for six weeks had spoiled him. He had almost forgotten what it was like to wake from a nightmare. The screams, the clawing at the sheets, holding on like his life depended on it. The ragged breaths as he tried to get ahold of himself, heartbeats thumping in his ears. Trying to remember his own name, where he was.

The fear. The pure, unyielding fear.

Tonight wasn't different. Images of blood _-too much blood_ , ringing in his ears, screams, not his own. Shouting _-his name_ piercing pain through his throat, his head, his chest, a gunshot, a _bullet_ -

He would have woken up screaming if he could. Instead, his breath forced itself out of his lungs is heaving rasping breaths. It hurt. Wash hated it. The agonizing moments before his eyes snapped open and he sat up so fast his forehead almost collided with the concerned face of his teammate.

Caboose was sitting at the end of his bed. He looked like he had been there for some time. His big, gentle hand was resting on Wash's knee. Caboose gave him a smile. It wasn't as big as others he had seen, but it was just as genuine, just as filled with love.

"I'm glad you woke up. You know, Tucker told me I shouldn't try to wake you up myself because you might get scared. Even after you've been here for so long. So I just sat here like he said, so you wouldn't be alone when you woke up," Caboose explained. "You looked scared, Washingtub." His voice was as hushed as it was going to get.

His thick chestnut curls were getting long again. They reached down below his shoulders now. Wash could tell he hadn't been brushing his hair. There were knots everywhere. Wash also noticed that in his absence, Tucker must have forgotten to help Caboose shave. His beard had just crossed the threshold past stubble and towards messy.

Wash let his gaze wander over Caboose's face, with the familiar pair of droopy eyes, thick with soft lashes. They looked green and gray in the pale moonlight that filtered in through Wash's small window.

Wash had slowly come down from his adrenaline high while Caboose sat quietly. His heart beat slower even though it still pounded in his ears. His breathing was more even, although it still came out raspy like sandpaper. Caboose gave Wash's knee an affectionate pat when he judged it was okay.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Caboose asked. Wash nodded numbly. "Tucker does sometimes, and Carolina when she has nightmares," Caboose said. He stood up from Wash's bed and held out his hand for Wash to take.

It took a moment for Wash to get his balance. The blood rushed away from his head when he stood and he leaned on Caboose for support. Wash felt bad. About all this. He had had countless nightmares before, sure. And almost all of them ended up with one of his teammates at the foot of his bed. He was the leader of Blue Team. He was supposed to be at  _their_  bedsides when they were waking up screaming...

Not hanging limply off the arm of the youngest Blue, walking slowly down the hall to go outside. He felt small. Weak. He hated feeling like that. Wash let the images of his nightmares fade away so he could flood his head with guilt. If he hadn't been so- so vulnerable, so gullible then he wouldn't have been stuck in his armor. He wouldn't have been delirious. He wouldn't have gotten _shot_  and he wouldn't have gotten himself fresh nightmare fodder.

Just when he was getting over his old nightmares ~~_about εpsilon, about Maine_~~. Just when he was feeling better it all rolled back down on top of him. Wash felt a bit like Sisyphus from those ancient myths Delta told him about once.

Wash was still in a daze when he and Caboose stepped out into the cool night air. They made their way down to the beach, Caboose not saying a word. Wash marveled at how much he seemed to have matured while Wash was gone. Maybe it was the fact that he had finally come to terms with Church's ~~_and εpsilon's_~~ death. Maybe it was the fact that over the years, Wash had realized that Caboose seemed to have a sixth sense for when his friends needed help.

He sat down on the sand and watched the small waves out over the lake. Caboose sat next to him and fiddled with his thumbs. Wash moved to sign thanks to him, but quickly remembered he hadn't taught Caboose ASL yet. For now, it was his and Tucker's special thing. Well, and Carolina's. He liked that it was their special thing.

"When you were asleep on singing planet, Tucker had a lot of nightmares. A _loooot_. Every night. He said they were about you. And Carolina was at Red Base, and you weren't here to wake him up so I was the only one left to make sure he wasn't scared. Because I'm a great friend," Caboose said.

Carolina was at Red Base while he was out? Tucker was having nightmares? About him? Wash frowned. The knot of anxiety in his stomach tightened. Had Blue Team fallen apart that much while he was gone? He had to talk to Tucker about his nightmares tomorrow.

At least Caboose didn't seem too shaken. And he was a great friend. Wash knew that.

Caboose stopped fiddling with his thumbs and started playing with a stray lock of hair. Wash looked over at him. He was going to get more knots that way. Wash reminded himself to brush Caboose's hair in the morning.

Caboose looked worried. Stressed even. He eventually stopped playing with his hair and looked over at Wash. "I didn't want to ruin your day and make everyone sad, so I didn't say anything when we were all having fun but I missed you and I wasn't allowed to see you and it would have been really really really sad for me if you didn't get better. I don't need to say goodbye to anymore friends, Wash."

Wash was still. He listened to Caboose's breathing for a moment before leaning over and tracing letters in the sand. Caboose didn't know ASL, but he could read.

"I'm not leaving," Wash wrote. Caboose placed his hand over Wash's. It was warm. "Good," he said.

Wash smiled hesitantly. He stood up and brushed the sand from his legs. Caboose did the same. Wash pointed towards the base and they both started walking back. 

Caboose still had his hand in Wash's. "I learned something. While you were asleep. A home is something that's always right where you left it. Something that makes you feel safe." Caboose tilted his head to look over at Wash. He gave Wash a big grin, the kind that showed the gap between his two front teeth. "I am home. I'm always right where you left me. I make you feel safe... Right?" Wash nodded firmly.

Caboose was a solid reminder that he was in a somewhat stable place now. He did make Wash feel safe. Even if he set things on fire once a week. And once he let a tiny bird live in his hair. That was a disaster. But Caboose cared so much about his friends it hurt. And in turn, Wash cared so much about him it hurt. Caboose _was_  home. The structure of Blue Team. Like the big strong trunk of a tree, with the rest of them as leaves.

Back inside the base, Wash's bare feet felt cold against the metal floor and he quietly padded back to his room. He felt better now, especially after Caboose had given him a hug and a kiss on the forehead before going back to his own room. He felt warm and fuzzy inside as he crawled back under his sheets and closed his eyes.

Wash had a feeling he might be able to get through the rest of the night.

* * *

 

The morning starlight shone through Wash's window and warmed his face. He opened his eyes slowly and let himself adjust to the light. He felt rested, more so than he had in a long time. Even his six weeks in the hospital didn't do much. Wash had been unconscious enough times to know it wasn't exactly rejuvenating.

He rolled over onto his back and noticed the small stuffed crocodile tucked under his arm. It was light blue, impossibly soft and well-loved. One of its bright green eyes was hanging off by a thread. There were angry eyebrows sewn on (by hand, Wash noted) and a single initial embroidered on the front left foot. C.

Wash frowned, turning the crocodile over in his hands. C could easily stand for Caboose. Or Carolina. ~~_Or Connie_~~  Or Church. It was the color of his armor. He knew that Church had had green eyes ~~_like the Director_~~ , if Blue Team's descriptions were anything to go by. The crocodile had green eyes too.

Wash eased himself out of bed, still clutching the crocodile, and went to find himself something to wear.

He had accumulated more clothes over the course of being on Blue Team than he ever had in his years in Freelancer. He had more shirts than he ever thought he'd wear. Most of them were Church's old clothes. They were the only ones that fit him. He had a few sweaters from Caboose that he'd grown out of and random articles of clothing that he'd found on supply runs on Chorus. His favorite was the kitschy pink sequined sweater with cats on it that drove Tucker crazy.

He had one pullover from Freelancer that he had managed to keep with him. It started out as a joke from back from before things had gone to shit. It was white, like Maine's armor, with a hand-stitched chicken on the front. The chicken looked suspiciously like Maine's helmet. He had gotten it from North, who had made one for every member of Freelancer and insisted that they wear them for Maine's birthday.

Wash still had his. He kept it with him even after Maine threatened to burn every one in existence (he didn't appreciate the joke). It was a painful reminder, but he kept it.

 Wash shoved the white sweater down into the bottom of the crate he used as a dresser. He still had the red shirt that Simmons had left in in the base at crash site bravo when he had defected. Wash had kept it, just in case.

The crocodile plush was still in his hands when he walked into the kitchen wearing a yellow pullover hoodie and his only pair of gray sweatpants from Freelancer. Donut had pulled off the logo sewn into the leg.

"Good morning, beautiful," Tucker signed to him from the table. He had a bowl of cereal, a cup of coffe and his datapad in front of him. He looked like shit. Like he hadn't slept all night. Still, he signed to Wash with effortless precision. Wash tucked the crocodile under his arm to sign "good morning" back.

Carolina looked up from the couch in the living room. Caboose was sitting on the floor in front of her and she was gently brushing the knots out of his hair. She had beat Wash to it. Carolina took a moment to sign a lazy "hey" before turning back to tackle a particularly nasty knot. Caboose was focusing on his datapad, playing a game to keep himself occupied. He waved his hand distractedly in Wash's direction.

Wash smiled fondly. Carolina looked so at ease. He was happy she had finally relaxed. Or, found something to do that didn't involve punching things. He was brought back to the present by Tucker's spoon falling out of his grasp and clattering to the floor.

He cursed under his breath. Wash stared as he bent down to pick it up. Tucker met his gaze while he was wiping the spoon off on a napkin. Wash signed "are you okay?"

Tucker nodded. "I just couldn't sleep last night," Tucker signed. He rubbed his eye tiredly and was on the verge of yawning. Wash sat down across from Tucker. He put the crocodile on the table and considered crossing his arms in the authoritative way that alway made Tucker pay attention. "Nightmares?" he signed.

Tucker picked up his mug and took a sip of his coffee for much longer than necessary. He set the mug down on the stainless steel table with a clunk. "It wasn't too bad," he signed. Wash frowned. "What do you mean? Caboose told me you have them every night. That's serious," he signed.

Tucker made a strangled noise. "Your nightmares are worse than mine," he argued. It took him of two seconds to shift the conversation away from him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there last night to wake you up. I heard about it this morning from Caboose. He was going on and on about how good a friend he is."

Wash frowned deeper. He glanced down at the crocodile. Then over at Caboose and Carolina then back to Tucker. He couldn't have a serious conversation about Tucker's nightmares right now. It was too early. Wash was too tired. So he let it slide for now.

"It's okay. Caboose woke me up. He's changed a lot in a month." Wash paused for a moment. "And for the record, he is a good friend."

Tucker nodded. "He has and he is. I'm glad he finally got closure about Church. He seems more like his old self now." Wash played with the little felt spikes on the crocodile's tail. Tucker stared at it with fascination. "Where'd you get that?" he signed.

Wash pointed over at Caboose. Tucker looked stunned. "Oh. That's-- That was Church's," he signed. Wash looked over Caboose. Wait-- He trusted Wash enough to give him something of such sentimental value? The crocodile, worn and fading, somehow felt so much more important. As if Caboose was giving him the metaphorical torch of Blue Team.

Tucker, not wanting to disturb Wash's thoughts, tried to get up from the table as quietly as he could. He washed his bowl in the sink and cleaned his coffee mug. He turned back around and caught Wash's eye. "Do you want some coffee?" he signed. Wash hadn't eaten anything either. "Or Breakfast?"

"Cereal for breakfast, please. No coffee," Wash signed, rolling his eyes at Tucker's exaggerated look of surprise. "Do we have tea? Something to soothe my throat?" he asked. Tucker stopped pouring cereal into a bowl. He chewed on his bottom lip, deep in thought. It was kind of cute.

Eventually, he sighed and turned to Carolina. "Wash wants tea. You have to go and get some from Red Base," he said. Wash's heart sped up. He hadn't heard Tucker's voice all day. It sounded good.

Carolina patted Caboose's shoulder and got up from the couch. Caboose reached up a hand and felt how soft and smooth his now knot-free hair was.

Carolina made her way over to the table and sat down heavily next to Wash. "And you can't go because Sam is the only person who regularly drinks tea and you're still not over your shitty grudge?"

Tucker nearly dropped the bowl he was carrying. "Wh-- shitty grudge?" He said, setting the bowl in front of Wash and taking his seat again. "You're the ones who forgave him the minute he set foot on this moon," he argued.

Wash listened to the interaction with mild confusion. "Who's Sam?" he signed to Carolina. She hesitated for a moment. "Locus," she said. "I thought you knew already." 

Wash shook his head. He hadn't seen Locus since the flight from Chorus. When they got off the ship he sort of... Disappeared. Wash had spent the whole day not really noticing he was gone. Sam... It was a nice name. It seemed oddly fitting for his voice. Wash briefly wondered if it fit with the way he looked. He hadn't ever seen Sam's face.

 Wash ate his cereal in silence. He tuned out Carolina and Tucker's bickering. "You should just forgive him already, it's doing more harm than good to keep this up. He's really trying to change," was the last thing he heard Carolina say before he sank into his own thoughts.

Carolina tapped him gently on the shoulder to bring him back to reality. He jumped, almost falling out of his seat, but he caught himself and simply sent her an accusatory glance. She was zipping up her undersuit and getting ready to put on her armor.

"Come on, we're going to Red Base. You could use the exercise," she said. Wash nodded. He got up, leaving the crocodile on the table, and went to look for his armor. If Carolina thought it was necessary, it probably was.

* * *

 

Wash exited the base and had to shield his eyes from the bright starlight. Carolina was waiting for him with her helmet tucked under her arm. "Ready to go?" she asked. Wash nodded and fell into step next to her. They set off down the trail that connected the bases.

Wash considered putting his own helmet on, but the breeze was just so nice. Not to mention he could let the bandages on his neck breathe a little.

"Tucker seems okay," Wash signed. Carolina stopped walking. "Is he?" Wash finished. Carolina shook her head. She unsealed her helmet and looked him in the eyes. "No," she said, her voice firm. "He's just gotten better at hiding the fact that he's tearing himself apart on the inside." Carolina ran a gloved hand through her short red hair. It had taken her a while to be used to it being short, but now she never wanted to go back to long hair.

"He hasn't gotten a full night's sleep since it happened," Carolina said. 'It' being the little incident when Wash almost died from a bullet to the throat. "His nightmares are almost worse than yours..." She turned away from Wash. "I couldn't stand it. I know I should have been there for him but it was just as hard for me. So I stayed with the Reds because I'm a coward and I couldn't bear to hear him so scared."

Wash reached out and took Carolina's hand. He gave it a little squeeze. "It's okay," he signed when Carolina finally found the courage to look at him again. "Caboose was there."

Carolina managed a small laugh. "Thanks. That makes me feel so much better," she said. Wash could have sworn there was a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

They started walking again and Carolina kept her hand in Wash's. "You should talk to him. He's still recovering. It might help him to just know that you're okay. He needs to hear it from you," Carolina said. She was just spitballing, but it seem to make a little bit of sense. "Well, not hear, because..." she gestured to Wash's neck. "You know what I mean."

 They made it the rest of the way to Red Base without talking much (not at all, on Wash's part). It was nicer than he remembered. There were two floors, real windows (not just holes in the walls) and it looked structurally sound enough to maybe, possibly mostly survive if Donut set it on fire again. Someone must have rebuilt it while he was gone.

Grif opened the door after Carolina had given it hell. He looked irritated. "What do you want this early in the morning?" he demanded. Carolina put her hands on her hips. "It's almost eleven and Wash needs tea," she said.

Grif took the longest breath possible and let it out with a groan. "Fine," he grumbled, walking away from the door and leaving it wide open. Carolina took it as an invitation. She stepped inside as easily as if she lived there, Wash noted. Although, according to Caboose, she _had_  lived there for a time.

Simmons, Donut, Lopez and Sarge were all in the living room looking cozy and, dare Wash say it, domestic. They didn't pay Carolina any mind, but Sarge cast a suspicious glance at Wash before going back to whatever he was doing. It looked like blueprints for something.

Doc was there too, he noted, curled up against Donut on the couch and looking disinterested in whatever was on the... Television? No, that was a projector. Red Base was awesome. More so than Blue Base. Who could have upgraded it so much in six weeks?

Wash followed Carolina into the kitchen and sat on the counter while she browsed the cabinets in search of tea. Grif was at the stove mumbling about something while cracking two eggs (at the same time?) over a skillet.

"What are you doing?" a gruff, sleepy voice said from behind them. Wash turned sharply, almost slipping off the counter. Carolina didn't even look behind her. She kept scouring the cabinets. "Hey Sam," she said. "Where's your tea? Wash wants some for his throat."

Sam walked over to where Wash was sitting and picked him up off the counter without an ounce of effort. "Don't sit on the countertops," he said. Wash shivered slightly at the sudden touch. Even through his thick undersuit, he was still painfully aware of the contact. Wash turned to get a good look and Sam and he gaped. He knew very well he shouldn't have, but Sam was... Mildly attractive. He wasn't Wash's type, though, despite being built like North. Despite having the same intense eyebrows that Maine had. Not to mention the crisscrossing scar on his face made him look badass.

 Sam opened up the cabinet behind where he had been and pulled out a small cloth pouch. "Loose-leaf tea," he mumbled, pressing the pouch into Wash's hand. "It should help."

Carolina shrugged at Wash when he looked over at her, confused. He pointed to the door and headed out, trailed closely by Carolina. As he passed, he could hear Sam was talking to Grif in hushed spanish. "Make your own eggs," he heard Grif say.

Carolina took Wash's hand again once they were out of Red Base. She tried (and failed) to distract from it by filling the silence with words. "They have a garden now," she said. Wash smiled. "Did Donut start it?" he signed, already knowing the answer. Carolina nodded. "Yep. He and Sam are growing all kinds of things. They rarely order any food in the supply drops anymore. Other than Grif's 'essential' snacks, of course."

Carolina made light conversation while they walked back. Wash learned that Kai was hanging out in New Armonia with the lieutenants and sometimes stopped by to say hi to Grif and make sure they all remembered her. They always did. How could they forget when she threw kick-ass parties every visit?

By the time Wash and Carolina got back, he was wearing a smile that he hoped never went away. Tucker perked up when he saw the carefree smile and mirrored it with one of his own. "Well well, I'm guessing it went well?" he asked. Wash held up the pouch of tea leaves. "Loose-leaf," he signed. Tucker snorted. "Sam's a fucking nerd," he said.

Caboose was still in the living room, this time drawing on a huge piece of paper. Wash noticed he was using an awful lot of gray and aqua. Tucker was stretched over the couch, tilting his head over the back to look at Wash.

Wash stripped out of his armor, took the tea into the kitchen and set a pot of water on the stove to boil. He beckoned Tucker to follow him. He did, trying not to look anxious. Whenever Wash wanted to talk to him privately, it wasn't good.

"We both have nightmares," Wash signed, leaning against the counter. When Tucker tried to interject, Wash cut him off with a look. It was his 'I'm disappointed in you' look. "If what I've heard is true, your nightmares are pretty bad. Maybe worse than mine," Wash signed. Tucker reluctantly nodded, not keeping his eyes on Wash for longer than he needed. 

"I know how important a good night can be. Getting a full night's sleep is a rare thing when I'm plagued by the past. I don't want to to feel like you have to be there." Wash paused to consider his next words. Tucker had his eyes on Wash's hands, avoiding his gaze. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

Hey. That was Wash's line.

"You're not. But you don't need to feel guilty about being asleep," Wash signed. Tucker frowned. "You're one to talk," he said. "Do you know how many times you've apologized to me for the same reason?"

Wash looked taken aback. "I know I'm being hypocritical to some extent but it's because I care about you. And it hurt to know you were losing sleep over me while I was gone."

Tucker let his hands fall limply at his sides. "You're an ass. I'm always going to lose sleep over you. Because you're impulsive and self-sacrificing and melodramatic and no matter how hard anyone tries you just won't die." He glared at the pot boiling on the stove. "I hate that... And I love that about you. We're both idiots. We both blame ourselves for silly things and we both won't stop." Tucker heaved a huge sigh.

"No we won't," Wash signed. "But... You don't always have to be the one to wake me up." Tucker shrugged. "I _want_  to be," he said. Wash's heart was caught in his throat. "I just want you to know I'm okay," he signed, his hands slightly shaking. "I am."

Tucker left his spot on the other side of the kitchen and walked closer to Wash. He slowly took Wash's hands in his and tried to ignore Wash's fingers flinching. Tucker held his hands like they were made of glass. "I know you are," he whispered. "I also know how close you came to being _not okay_. I want to be the one to wake you up so I can remind myself that you're fine."

Wash's hands suddenly felt cold when Tucker let go of them. He didn't protest though, how could he? Tucker brought his hands up to gingerly brush against the bandages covering the entry and exit wounds on his neck. He hadn't seen the wounds yet. He wasn't sure he wanted to... Not yet. He could imagine them: scarred, torn flesh. Red and tender and painful. Stretching across his throat like spiderwebs, feathery and deadly. Not healed yet, still threatening to reopen, kill him from blood loss in the dead of night and--

Tucker had imagined those wounds so many times.

What started out as a pseudo-lecture had suddenly turned into a quiet moment between them. Tucker's hands came to rest on Wash's shoulders, well away from the wounds and his implants. Wash had always been sensitive about his implants. "I admit to being fragile," Tucker whispered. "I admit to being scared. I admit that I want to be the only one to wake you up." He was so close now, only inches between them.

The pot on the stove had begun to boil. The water was evaporating quickly, turning into steam and escaping towards the ceiling. Under normal circumstances, Wash would have noticed. Under normal circumstances, Wash would have taken the pot off the stove. These weren't normal circumstances, though. All he could focus on was the deep chocolate brown eyes staring into his own and the lingering scent of coffee on his breath.

"Now you," Tucker whispered. Wash cocked his head slowly. Tucker continued, his voice still as quiet as before. "Admit something. Something obvious. Something that everyone knows. I want to hear it from you."

Wash didn't want to move his arms. He didn't want to make Tucker step away and give him space to sign. And he didn't know why.

Nevertheless, he brought up his hands, heart dropping when Tucker moved away, and started to sign.

"I admit to being fragile," he signed, mirroring Tucker's words. "I admit to being scared. I admit that I'm impulsive and self-sacrificing and melodramatic and I admit that I--" Wash stopped. He didn't know what else to say. The look in Tucker's eyes said 'what else? Tell me something I don't know.'

"I admit that I'm never going to be alright. I'm never going to be who I was before PFL." Tucker's expression quickly hardened into one of... Fear?

Wash quickly continued. "But... I admit that I would love nothing more than to be able to wake up and feel safe." Tucker brightened. "I could do that for you! I could be there and make you feel safe." Wash held up his hand to quiet him. "But how can you if you're having a good night's sleep?" Tucker didn't miss a beat. "I'll move into your fucking room if I have to," he said.

Wash noticed the pot on the stove now. There wasn't any more water in it. He flicked his eyes to it quickly, leaned over to turn off the burner, and looked back to Tucker. He was waiting expectantly for Wash's response.

"Washingtub? Oh, oh there you are! I made you something! I saw your room and it doesn't really have a lot of pictures, not like my room, so I was thinking that maybe you would want something pretty to put up and it wouldn't make you feel so sad." Caboose was leaning over the counter holding out a piece of paper with a very simple but surprisingly accurate drawing of Blue Team. He had taped a smaller piece of paper onto it with Red Team.

Tucker seemed a bit miffed that Caboose had kind of intruded upon their very serious conversation about Tucker getting to sleep with Wash. Maybe in more ways than one, bow chicka bow wow.

Wash's face said the opposite. He was grinning from ear to ear making cute little wheezing noises. He was laughing, or the silent equivalent of laughing. "Thank you so much," he signed, reaching out to take the drawing. He and Tucker were standing next to eachother, holding hands with the rest of Blue Team. It was the cutest drawing ever. Of all time.

Tucker frowned slightly as he watched Wash take the drawing (and the crocodile plushie) back to his room. He had to come back for tape and he caught Tucker's eye. Wash gave him a quick "we'll talk later" and retreated to his room. The truth was, he had to compose himself before trying to talk to Tucker again.

He couldn't get it out of his mind how close they were, how gentle Tucker's hands had been on his shoulders. And now he wanted to move into Wash's room just to be closer. When did 'later' mean, exactly? How long could he postpone it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have made this more angsty. I could have, but I just want them to be happy. So have a light dusting of angst.
> 
> Yes, Caboose's Guide to Finding Your Home DID inspire those lines of dialogue. It was just too precious.
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment, those fuel me and make my day brighter!


	3. Good Nights Are Rare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash and Tucker 'talk' and maybe... He was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a bit short, but I just couldn't leave y'all any longer without a chapter.

Wash went up to the roof of Blue Base with his tea. He did have to boil more water, but it wasn't too much trouble, in his opinion. The star was lower in the sky now, lower than it had been before he had made a hasty retreat to his room to escape having to talk about sleeping arrangements with Tucker. Wash could see almost all the way across the lake from up there. It was supposed to be almost a mile long and twice as wide. It sure seemed like it. He loved the lake. Before his injury, before Temple, he had tried to cross it in their tiny canoe. 

After that one attempt, he never tried again. Partly because Tucker kept tipping him over, partly because he wasn't sure what he'd do when he made it to the other side.

Wash spotted 5/6 of Red Team on the beach, Lopez being absent. He could see Grif kicking sand up near the water, Donut standing on a huge boulder out over the water. Sam was sitting on the beach talking with Simmons. A smile came to his lips as he watched Sarge sneak up on Donut and give him a playful shove. It was enough to send him tumbling off the boulder and into the water below with a huge splash.

Wash hadn't tried swimming again. True, it was only his second day back, but he didn't want to get his bandages wet and risk an infection. Not to mention his breathing wasn't at one hundred percent yet either. He wasn't going to take any chances until he got the okay from Dr. Grey. Wash stood there, leaning against the railing and looking out over the lake for a while. He thought about a lot of things. He made an effort to not think about Tucker's request. Because, if he started thinking about it then he would _overthink_  it. He would start imagining outlandish reasons behind why Tucker asked, and then he would be in over his head.

Fuck, now he was thinking about it. Wash glowered at the lake, trying to get his mind off things. Luckily, he didn't have to. Carolina did it for him. She was such a good friend. Carolina came up the stairs and, upon seeing Wash, made her way around the copious plants Caboose had put everywhere and over to him. She took a moment to assess his body language and immediately noticed what was wrong.  "What's up with you, Wash? He just wants to move his bed. I personally think it's cute." Wash winced. It had taken her less time to read him like a book. She was getting better. 

"But he's doing it because I still have nightmares and he wants to be there to wake me up," Wash signed. He had put his cup down on the railing to free up his hands to sign. Carolina frowned. She put her hands on her hips and stared Wash down. "And? What's wrong with that? The reason just makes it cuter." She put up a hand to stop Wash from interrupting. "I think you should at least give it a chance. It'll be good for him too, remember? You aren't the only one."

Wash tilted his head curiously. "The only one who what?" he signed. Carolina looked a little annoyed. "You aren't the only one who worries, or gets nightmares, or secretly craves human contact..." She trailed off, giving Wash a pointed look. "I don't CRAVE human contact, Lina," Wash signed angrily. Carolina leaned against the railing and sighed. "Are you sure? Because I know what I saw when Caboose gave you a hug earlier. It was- It was like you were melting." Wash wrinkled his nose. "That sounds gross," he pointed out. Carolina laughed. It wasn't much, but Wash loved her laugh. It was somehow inspiring.

"I could have phrased it better, yes," Carolina conceded. "But that's what it looked like. I swear, you would have stayed like that forever if you could." She smiled fondly, like she was thinking back to that moment. "Yeah... I would have," Wash signed, small and shy. He kind of hoped Carolina didn't notice. 

"I'm going to Chorus tomorrow. To see Kimball. Plus, Caboose really wants to see Andersmith so I'm bringing the captains with me. Do you want to come along?" Carolina said, ignoring Wash's earlier signs. "Is Tucker going?" Wash signed. Carolina waved her hand around. "He's a captain. His lieutenants deserve to see him again." Carolina paused, remembering how much Tucker seemed to be annoyed by his lieutenant. "And if he refuses, I'll drag him there myself. So it'll just be you, Sarge, Donut, Lopez, and Doc." She ticked off the names on her fingers. "Kimball has Sam doing some community service."

Wash shrugged. He took a long sip of his tea and made a mental note to thank Sam. It was good tea. He put the cup down so he could sign freely. "I'll stay. Dr. Grey wants me back for a checkup in three days anyway. I can say hi to everyone then. Let them know I'm okay." Carolina nodded slightly. "That sounds good. Anything you want me to pick up while I'm there?" she asked, pulling out her datapad and getting ready to write down whatever Wash wanted.

"I don't know... I- haven't really _wanted_  anything lately," Wash signed. "Sugar's always good. We're running low, and when I'm well enough to drink coffee again, I'm going to use it very quickly. If I think of anything else, I'll tell you," he assured Carolina. She nodded again. "Alright then. I'll leave you to your brooding then." Wash gave her a dirty look. "I'm not brooding," he signed, but she was already walking away. "Just give it a chance, Wash. If not for your sake, for Tucker's," Carolina said. It took Wash a second to remember she was talking about the sleeping arrangements.

Wash stood silently for a couple of seconds after Carolina left before throwing up his hands in defeat, grabbing his tea and stomping down the stairs after her. She was sitting in the kitchen when he got down and he raised his eyebrow at her. She pointed down the hall to where Tucker's room was. Of course he would be there.

Wash only hesitated for a second before knocking on Tucker's door. He wasn't surprised when it opened immediately. "Wash. What's up?" Tucker asked, a smile on his face that, after knowing Tucker for years, Wash could tell wasn't completely genuine. Wash began to wonder if he had upset him by putting it off. He admitted it was silly to be... Intimidated by a simple conversation.

"Do you want help moving your bed?" Wash signed, cutting straight to the chase. "Hell yeah," Tucker said, sounding excited, and stepped aside to let Wash in his room. It had changed a bit since he had been gone. There were a few more pictures on the wall, little doodles Caboose had done. Wash noticed he had switched out his bunk bed frame for a single. That made it much easier to move, he thought with relief.

"So, what was up with you earlier? You were like, avoiding me," Tucker asked, trying to sound casual. He was sliding his mattress onto the flor so they could move it and the frame separately. Wash stared at the crumpled Blue Team hoodie on Tucker's floor. "Carolina asked me the same thing and then she said I should give it a chance so... I am," he signed.

Tucker nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, so why'd you run and hide? I didn't think you were that kind of person," he asked. Wash sent him an incredulous look. He chose not to answer immediately. Instead, he picked up Tucker's bed frame and they both hauled it slowly but surely next door to Wash's room. Once it was nicely aligned against the wall, Wash answered. "I didn't run and hide! I was... Composing myself before I came and had a serious conversation." His answer was so far from satisfying.

Tucker just shrugged indifferently and waited for Wash to help him lift his mattress. It wasn't that heavy, just cumbersome to carry. Tucker dropped his end on the bed frame without caring much. Wash made sure it was situated properly before sitting down and picking up one of Tucker's pillows.

Tucker flopped down beside him and laid back, closing his eyes as if to sleep. Wash let him lay like that until Carolina peeked in the doorway and signed "Dinner time," before disappearing again. He turned around to see Tucker with his eyes open, frowning at the ceiling.

"I don't wanna get up," he mumbled. Wash shrugged, showing how little he cared. He stood and kicked Tucker's foot to get his attention. "We have to go eat," he signed. Tucker groaned. He reached out for Wash's hand and pulled him onto the bed. "But I don't want to," he complained. Wash gave him an unimpressed look. "Fine. I'm going, you don't have to come," he signed. Tucker let him get up and walk to the doorway before his stomach growled loudly and Wash raised an eyebrow.

"Wait for me!" he sighed, hauling himself up from the bed like it was the hardest thing in the world. He honestly just wanted to lay in bed with Wash some more. Stupid body needing stupid food. "So, Carolina! You cooked something and _didn't_  burn it?" Tucker asked when he walked into the kitchen and smelled soup. It definitely didn't _smell_  burnt.

"Shut up, Tucker," Carolina answered. She was spooning some veggie soup into a bowl for Caboose.  "And it's hard to mess up soup. All I had to do was chop veggies, and we all know I'm great at that. Plus, I know how to set and listen to an alarm... Unlike _some people_." She gave Tucker a knowing look.

"It's called beauty sleep, Carolina. Maybe you've heard of it?" Tucker shot back, grabbing himself a bowl and just narrowly avoiding the foot Carolina stuck out to trip him. He thanked Wash's insistance on training him for that. "I could poison your next meal. You'd never know," Carolina stage-whispered, even though there was a playful smirk on her face.

"Yeah, like you'd do that to Wash," Tucker commented. Wash almost burned his tongue on the hot soup. He gave Tucker and Carolina both equally confused stares. "What?" Carolina demanded, narrowing her eyes at Tucker. Tucker shrugged innocently. "What?" 

"What did you say?" Carolina asked again, more pleading this time.  "I didn't say anything. Let's just eat," Tucker assured her. Carolina dropped it after that. She reminded Caboose to take a shower in the morning and said that she would leave the leftover soup for Wash. Tucker, under his breath, noted how much it felt like real, wholesome family meal. Carolina kicked his foot.

Wash was already in bed when Rucker got out of the bathroom. The lights were off and he only had the moon to guide him to his bed. Once he was cozy, he turned to face Wash's bed and whispered "Goodnight, Wash." Tucker could hear the sheets rustling on the other side of the room and by the faint moonlight he could just barely make out Wash sending him a "Goodnight" in return.

A few hours later he awoke with a start, drenched in cold sweat and not a sound escaping his lips save for the heaving breaths he was forcing out. It was worse when he didn't scream. Sometimes, his nightmares had him feeling trapped. He couldn't move, couldn't scream for help. It was like he was frozen in a block of ice, watching his worst fears play out before his eyes and there was nothing he could do.

Wash was right. He should have cherished his sleep-filled nights more.

Tucker quietly swung his legs over the side of his bed and felt his toes touch the cold floor. He was shivering, but the cool contact felt refreshing. He stood up, grabbed his pillow and silently padded across the room. Wash was sound asleep. Thank goodness. Tucker didn't know if he could handle another post-nightmare breathing exercise.

He felt a little guilty about it when he lifted up the covers and laid down next to Wash. It felt like he was a little kid again, scared of the monsters under his bed and running into his parents' room to sleep in theirs. Wash rolled over in his sleep and tossed an arm across Tucker's chest. Tucker held his breath. He wasn't prepared for Wash to pull him closer. He was awake, his hazel eyes searching Tucker's face for clues.

Tucker knew what he wanted to ask. Living with the guy for four years made it easy. He wanted to ask what was wrong. He had a habit of doing that. He would ask Caboose what was wrong when he went silent and got that misty look in his eyes. He would ask Carolina what was wrong when she got into a violent mood over something trivial.

"You were right," Tucker whispered, his forehead practically resting against Wash's. "Good nights are rare." Wash frowned the way he did when he got concerned. His nose scrunched up and crinkled the scar that ran over it. He held Tucker a little bit tighter, his arm around his waist protectively. Tucker waited a beat before telling Wash about his nightmare. It helped him, talking about it. Sometimes they sounded ridiculous out loud, so he would laugh about it and maybe get a few more hours of sleep.

Wash listened patiently, just nodding along and waiting with a saddened smile when Tucker had to steady his breathing. They stayed like that for a while. Tucker, with his forehead against Wash's and his arms curled up by his chest. Wash, with an arm around Tucker's waist and a hand interlaced with his. Tucker fell asleep soon enough and Wash followed, not bothering to move his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, stick to a schedule? N E V E R .


	4. Worth My Time In Every Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolina and the captains go to Chorus, Wash watches Tokyo Drift.

Wash wasn't used to waking up warm. More often than not, he would kick the covers off himself during the night and wake up with goosebumps. Not to mention he was cold most of the time to begin with. So when he awoke feeling like he had slept next to an oven, his first thought was 'Oh no, Caboose found the matches again.' He was overjoyed when he opened his eyes to find a comfortable lack of fire. Tucker was, however, sprawled out across his entire bed.

Tucker's arm was thrown across Wash's chest and their legs had become tangled together at some point. Wash figured that was why he was so warm. Tucker seemed to generate four times as much heat as anyone else he'd ever met. Aside from Maine, maybe. That man was like the goddamn sun. Wash was in the middle of enjoying being warm when an unmistakable voice called out from the on the other side of the closed door.

"Tucker! Get your ass out of bed, we have to go!" Carolina pounded on the door a couple of times. She didn't seem to be worried about waking Wash up in the process. "Fuck off," Tucker mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He rolled over onto his back and moved his arm off Wash. Wash silently pouted about losing his warmth. Tucker rubbed his eyes slowly and made a show of yawning. He didn't move to get up out of bed.

"I swear to god, I feel like a mother," Carolina mumbled, throwing open the door and thanking the heavens that Wash somehow convinced Tucker to sleep with real clothes on.

"That's because you _are_ ," Wash signed, now sitting up in bed and fully awake. Tucker covered his face with his arm in an attempt to block the light coming from the bedside lamp Carolina turned on. It was still dark out, Wash noticed. Of course Tucker wasn't used to getting up this early. Even after how long they spent at Crash Site Bravo.

"No, Wash is our mom. You're our babysitter," Tucker explained. Wash started laughing. Except it was more of a wheezing and he had to stop because the other two were giving him concerned looks.

"I sure feel like one right now," Carolina commented. She gathered up the blanket that had fallen to the floor and threw it at Tucker. "Sam's getting impatient. If you're not ready within the next five minutes..." She sent him a terrifyingly calm gaze. "I'm carrying you to the ship." She cracked her knuckles for dramatic effect.

"Ugh, _Fiiiinnnneee_ ," Tucker lamented, dragging himself out of bed and stretching his arms. Wash noticed how fit he looked. His back muscles were impressive. It seemed like he kept up with Wash's retiming during his absence... At least, somewhat.

"Good morning, Wash. Sorry I woke you up," Carolina said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and ruffling his already messy hair. Wash smiled at her. "It's fine. I was already up anyway, I'm going on a jog," he signed. 

"Nerd," Tucker said, laughing. Wash gave him a quick reply. "But I'm a buff nerd." Tucker nodded. "Yeah, you have killer thighs, dude," he agreed.

"And you could too, if you came with me," Wash reminded him. Tucker was halfway through opening his mouth to reply before his expression shifted. "Bow chicka bow wow," he said, instead of a dignified response. Tucker stuck his tongue out at Wash and ignored the death glare he earned as he hurried out the door to get dressed. 

* * *

 

Wash stood outside Red Base wearing a hoodie and the only honest to goodness pair of shoes he owned. He was holding his datapad in one hand, ready to type. No one else knew ASL, so he had to type out whatever he wanted to say. Wash waved to Caboose as he climbed aboard A'rynasea."Bye Washingtub! Have fun at private croissant's movie night!" he called as the bay doors closed and the small black and orange ship sped off out of Reprise's atmosphere and towards Chorus.

"What is he talking about?" Wash typed once the ship was out of sight. He was standing with Donut, Sarge and Doc. Lopez was, according to Donut, inside Red Base with Freckles. "Oh, we thought you might want some company, since your whole team is leaving so were going to cram ourselves into Red Base and watch the Fast and the Furious," Donut said, standing up a little straighter.

"Which one?" Wash typed. He started to follow Donut towards Red Base. Donut shrugged. "Whichever one Grif picked up on the last supply run he went on with the lieutenants." They got inside and Wash saw Doc run off to the living room and rummage around in a storage crate. He made a triumphant noise and held aloft a small memory stick.

"It's the third one! Tokyo Drift!" Doc called. Donut made a gesture, as if to say 'there you have it, the answer'. Wash nodded. Tucker told him once that Tokyo Drift was the best. He hadn't seen any of them, so he was willing to take Tucker's word for it. 

Wash felt a bit out of place in Red Base without some explicit reason for being there, so he decided to head out. "I'm going to go eat leftover soup and go for a jog. I'll see you later? Maybe you can show me the garden you have? It looks wonderful," he typed to Donut, who was helping Sarge get ingredients from around the kitchen, presumably for breakfast.

"Oh, of course! We have all kinds of things, you're welcome to take whatever you like! Except Sam's strawberries. Those are only for him and Sarge," Donut said, whispering the last bit. Sarge clearly heard him, if the way his ears reddened was anything to go by. Wash smiled to himself and gave everyone a wave goodbye before going out the door and immediately heading for the beach.

Wash loved his morning runs. They were a great opportunity to clear his head and organize his thoughts. But for someone who had recently been shot in the throat, running wasn't the best idea. Wash got maybe sixty feet before he had to slow to a walk or risk exacerbating his wounds. Breathing was _hard_  when you had a fucked up windpipe. Instead of a brisk jog, he took a leisurely stroll along the beach. He walked all the way down to the huge boulder that Red Team liked to jump off into the lake.

Wash hadn't noticed until now, but the sky had been getting darker. He climbed up the huge boulder and laid down on it, staring up at the dark sky. Then, just like that, he was drenched. Without any warning, the clouds had dumped huge drops of rain down upon him. It was the first time he remembered it raining on Reprise. They had been living on the moon for almost a year, and never had he seen it rain.

A smile broke out across his face and he closed his eyes, letting the rain hit his face and he listened to the symphony of the drops on the lake surface and on the boulder and on his cheeks. He had forgotten how much he loved the rain. If he could, Wash would have stayed on the boulder forever, just soaking up the rain. But, it was his bandages that soaked up most of the rain and he didn't like the feeling of a soggy neck.

He grudgingly climbed back down to the beach and set off for Blue Base to change his bandages. He was glad he didn't have to wear his neck brace anymore, that was a pain. But he adapted quickly and he didn't feel any pain when he tried to turn his head or lean over. Maybe when he visited Dr. Grey, he could take off his bandages for good. That would be nice.

Wash took off the soggy bandages and put new ones on, trying not to look in the mirror. He didn't really want to see his scars, not yet. He looked himself over in the mirror, noting that his beard was getting long. He ran his fingers through it and considered giving it a trim. It had been too long.

He trimmed about half an inch off his beard and almost cut himself twice. Yep, it had been too long. When he was done, he found a rain jacket that belonged to Caboose and put it on. He noticed that the sleeves completely covered his hands and the jacket ended about mid-thigh. Caboose was huge. Wash bundled himself up in the jacket and opened the door. He was greeted by a wall of water. The rain had picked up so much he couldn't even see ten feet in front of him.

Wash heaved a quiet sigh and stepped out into the storm. He wasn't going to ditch Red Team. He was going to brave the thousands of pounds of water and go watch an ancient movie with them.

Wash didn't anticipate how cold it was going to be. When he was laying on the boulder, it had still been warm and even the rain was a nice temperature. Now, his toes were losing feeling and nose was red. It was chilly out, and the wind wasn't helping. Thankfully, he spotted the warm, inviting lights of Red Base and risked running the rest of the way.

Donut opened the door on Wash's third knock. "There you are! Did you enjoy your jog?" Donut said. He took a moment to fully process Wash's dripping hair and slightly damp clothes."Oh, you got caught out in the rain, didn't you?" Wash nodded numbly. He took of the rain jacket and shook it off by the door.  

Donut put a hand on Wash's shoulder reassuringly. "Oh, I'm sorry, Wash. Do you want a towel? Or a blanket? I think Sarge stole all the blankets though," Donut asked, dancing behind him into the living room and seeing Sarge in a nest of blankets. 

Wash took out his datapad, which was thankfully shielded from the rain. "I'm fine. I actually liked the rain. My bandages got soaked so I had to go back and change them." He showed the screen to Donut and saw a small smile grace his lips.

"How was your soup?" Donut asked, remembering that Wash mentioned it earlier. Wash paused halfway to the living room. "Whoops. I forgot to eat," he typed, looking sheepish. Donut narrowed his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "Washington! You can't skip meals, you're still healing! That's not healthy! I'll go make you something, stay right here." Donut turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen.

"He sounds like a concerned grandma," Wash typed, sitting down on the couch and turning his datapad so Doc could read it. "Pffftt. Yep. Oddly enough, he kisses like one too," Doc replied, covering his mouth to stifle a laugh. "How many times have you been kissed by concerned grandmas to know what it's like?" Wash typed, a curious look on his face. Doc was silent for a moment. He looked like he had seen a ghost. After a pause, he shook his head slowly and gazed out the window. "Too many, Wash... Too many," he whispered. Wash made a mental note to ask Doc more about that later.

Wash glanced over at Sarge, who was sitting on the other end of the couch, still wrapped in all the blankets, with his datapad out. Wash waited a moment before reaching over Doc and yanking one of the blankets away from Sarge and pulling it over his own shoulders. Sarge's eyes snapped over to him and he earned a moment's pause before Sarge decided that Wash was in need of the blanket more than he was and he went back to his datapad.

Wash was slightly shaken by Sarge's odd behavior. Sam must be making a... Good impression on him, or something. Wash had never seen Sarge so complacent, especially with a Blue. Maybe it was the fact that he was mute for the time being. Maybe it was just pity.

Donut broke Wash away from his depressing thoughts with a warm plate of pancakes. Wash eyed him suspiciously. He knew all about Donut's cooking ban. He wasn't allowed near anything that involved flames. How on earth did he make pancakes. Donut must have sensed his confusion. "Don't worry, I didn't make them. Sarge did, while you were out. I just had Lopez warm them." Donut pointed behind him at Lopez, who was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.  _"He wouldn't stop asking. I did it just to shut him up."_

Donut shrugged, pretending he could understand Lopez correctly. "Yeah, I am a pretty great teammate. Thanks, Lopez," he said, sitting down between Wash and Doc. He glanced over at Wash and watched him take a bite of pancake.

"Did you trim your beard, Wash?" Donut asked. "'Cause I think it looks good. I was _this_  close to doing it myself." Donut had a beard of his own, which he kept very neat and styled. It was shorter than Wash's and much more dignified. Wash had once heard Tucker call his a hot mess. He didn't disagree. Wash had never grown a beard on purpose before and he'd never kept one either.

"Donut. Babe? Are you going to start the movie?" Doc asked once Donut started going off on a tangent about different hairstyles he'd always wanted to try. Donut made a small gasp. "Oh! You're right! I completely forgot. Sorry." He got up from the couch and took Wash's empty plate off his lap. He went over to the projector and plugged in the movie.

Donut left Wash with Doc and Sarge again while he went to wash the plate. Sarge was still quiet, typing away on his datapad. He was messaging someone, Wash could tell. He had the same look on his face that Carolina got when she messaged Kimball.

Wash nudged Doc in the shoulder. He pulled out his own datapad and typed a message. "What's up with Sarge? He's being oddly quiet." Doc leaned over and lowered his voice. "Well... He and Sam have gotten really close. They go out into the garden together, up to the flower fields, onto the roof. Not to mention he's the first one to notice when Sam's having a nightmare," Doc whispered.

"Sam likes quiet, he likes peaceful moments. I guess Sarge has been doing his best to make Sam feel comfortable and it's become the norm for him. Not that I'm complaining, he's been so much more agreeable." Doc looked over again to make sure Sarge hadn't heard. If he did, he didn't show it. So maybe it wasn't pity, Wash thought. Maybe it was just Sarge learning to calm down.

Wash hadn't noticed the movie start. Donut got back from the kitchen and cuddled up next to Doc. Wash suddenly wished that Tucker was there. He would probably end up leaning against Wash, warming him like a furnace. The rain outside was nice, but it would be nicer if he had someone to cuddle with. He didn't, so he just pulled his blanket up to his chin and turned his attention away from the window and towards the movie.

By the end, Wash was completely lost plot-wise and he wished it would stop raining so he could go outside without getting soaked and possibly frostbite. It was _so cold_  out. Wash stayed after the movie, mostly because Donut forbade him to leave and partly because he promised makeovers. Doc seemed just as excited. He said O'malley really liked when Donut gave him winged eyeliner and then he and Wash were dragged into Donut's bedroom and they spent the rest of the day gossiping about boys and putting glitter on their faces.

"Tucker has really nice back muscles. It must be from all the sword fighting he does. And he does this thing when he gets really happy where he rocks his head from side to side..." Wash typed. They were talking about the things they liked most about their teammates. Doc started giggling. Wash frowned slightly. "What?" he typed. Doc waved his hand. "Oh, nothing. I just think its cute," he said. Donut nodded vigorously. "Mhmm. It's adorable. You two are so obvious, but at the same time... You have no idea!" he sighed wistfully.

Wash ignored his comment. It was just Donut being Donut. He finished applying eyeliner to Wash and started braiding Doc's hair. It was dark and wavy and reached down to his chin. He usually pulled it back into a ponytail, but sometimes Donut or Sam would braid it for him since he never learned how.

Wash stared out the window again and he noticed it had stopped raining. The sky was still a dark grey and clouds blanketed the horizon, but it wasn't as windy and there was a lack of water falling from the sky, which Wash was thankful for. He stood up and tried in vain to brush the glitter off his pants. He typed a quick "Goodbye, I had fun," and headed out the door. Donut and Doc both waved to him and Sarge nodded to him as he pulled on Caboose's jacket and opened the door.

It was probably around starset, Wash figured. The sky was much darker than it had been and his internal clock was telling him he was tired as fuck. There was about four inches of mud covering the ground, which made it very uncomfortable for Wash to walk all the way back to Blue Base. His feet got stuck more than once and threatened to trap him for eternity. The fact that it was still freezing out didn't help anything.

 

Wash was exhausted when he got back. He kicked his now mud-caked shoes off at the door and hung Caboose's rain jacket in the front hall. His stomach was yelling at him to eat something, so he heated up last night's soup (like he should have done that morning) and scrolled through Basebook while he ate. Simmons had posted a picture of himself, Grif, Bitters, Matthews and Jensen all sitting at a table with drinks in their hands. Bitters and Matthews were practically hanging off each other and Jensen was in the middle of laughing hysterically.

Wash smiled to himself. It was heartwarming to see the lieutenants so happy. He couldn't wait to go to Chorus in a few days, he wanted so badly to see everyone again. Wash finished his soup and cleaned out his bowl. He was in the middle of drying it when he heard the unmistakable sound of ship engines outside. His first instinct was to run outside and greet everyone immediately, but he figured it would be best to let them get inside where it was warm.

Wash sat back down at the table and waited with silent excitement. He heard the door open and several pairs of armored boots hit the floor. "Guess who's back?!" A voice called out. It was a very recognizable voice, one that he didn't hear often, but when he did it was always great. He threw his arms up and smiled as Kaikaina Grif pulled off her helmet and shot him a grin. She shook out her wavy brown hair and started stripping off her armor. "Who's ready to party?" she asked, knowing full well it was a rhetorical question. 

Wash's hand shot up, followed by Caboose and Carolina, who were both standing in the hallway too. They both let out cheerful whoops of excitement. Kai laughed her soft, sweet laugh and Wash wished he could too. She brought a new energy to Blue Team, something that was made all the more special because she only came around every month or so. He also appreciated the fact that she finally realized he _wasn't_  a cop. "Well, tomorrow, of course. It's super late and I'm about to pass out from exhaustion," Kai said, kicking her armor off to the side and flopping down on the couch.

"Hello Washingtub!" Caboose shouted, waving to him with one arm. His other was weighted down by an old shopping bag stuffed with some kind of fabric something. Wash stood up from the table to try and get a better look. It was definitely something knitted, he decided. Caboose sat down on the couch with Kai and started talking about something. He saw Kai reach out and run her hands through Caboose's hair.

"Hey Wash," Carolina said, leaning on the table and setting down a mason jar of something homemade. Carolina looked like she was glowing. She was smiling in a way he hadn't seen in years and if he wasn't mistaken, she had a brand new hickey right where her jaw met her neck. Good for her, Wash thought, smiling back at her. He couldn't help it, her smile was infectious.

Wash turned back to the jar. "What the fuck is that?" he signed, his eyebrow inching up his forehead. Carolina tapped it with her finger. "That, Wash, is peach moonshine. Bitters and Jensen made it," she said, a borderline proud tone in her voice. Wash frowned. "I'd absolutely love to have some, but I'm afraid it would kill my throat," he signed. Carolina threw her head back and laughed. "I bet it would." She put a hand on Wash's shoulder. "Don't worry. There'll be plenty once you heal. I asked Bitters to send some up in the next drop." She paused. "And by some, I mean enough to make up for all the years you didn't drink," she said with a grin.

Carolina rolled the jar around in her hands for a moment before looking back up at Wash. "How was your day? I see you spent some time with Donut. Nice eyeliner, by the way," she said with a wink. "The glitter's very nice." Wash blushed. "I see you spent some time with Kimball," Wash retorted, earning a much more obvious blush from Carolina. She covered the mark on her jaw and looked away. "Well, you know- I like her. A lot," Carolina said, her voice almost a whisper.

Wash nodded. "She is amazing. And so are you. I have no doubt that you two will become Chorus's power couple," he teased. Carolina raised her eyebrow. "Oh? I thought for sure that it'd be you and Tucker." Wash let out a sharp breath. "What?" he signed. Carolina made a vague gesture. "You'll get it soon enough," she said and stood up from the table. "I'm going to get some blankets for Kai. Tucker should be in soon."

Wash watched Carolina get up from the table and go to the closet. She came back out with her arms heaped with blankets. Caboose jumped up from the couch and started shouting about a blanket fort, Kai grabbed all the blankets from Carolina and they both took off down the hall to Caboose's room. Carolina snorted. "Okay then," she mumbled. "I'm going to bed, Wash. Don't stay up too late," She called, disappearing down the hall to her own room.

Wash waved goodbye to her and sat in silence for a few minutes. He could hear Caboose's faint laughter from down the hall and then the door opened agin, much quieter this time. He heard Tucker unseal his helmet and take off his armor before trying to sneak through the kitchen to get to his room. Wash stood up from the table and stopped him. Tucker looked a bit surprised, but not in a bad way. He grabbed Wash's shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace. He buried his face in Wash's sweater and stayed there, just breathing.

"Did you trim your beard?" he asked when he finally pulled away. Wash nodded and ran his hands up and down Tucker's shoulders. It was so painfully obvious that something was wrong. Tucker smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. It didn't light up his face like it usually did. "Finally. I was going to say something. It looked like shit," he mumbled.

"Are you okay? You look like you got run over by a warthog," Wash signed, looking Tucker up and down with a concerned eye. Tucker stepped back a bit and shrugged. "I was going to ask you how you knew what that looked like, but then I remembered... _You've_  gotten run over by a warthog. More than once," Tucker said, running a hand through his short curls. He let out a half-hearted laugh.

"Stop stalling, what happened?" Wash demanded. He waited for Tucker to heave a long-suffering sigh (and he called  _Wash_  dramatic) before asking again. "Nothing. It's not worth your time," Tucker said, waving his hand dismissively. He tried to step around Wash but damn it all, Wash had broad shoulders. He barely had to move to block Tucker's path.

"You are worth my time in every way," Wash signed, sending Tucker a concerned look. "Poetic," Tucker mumbled, trying to sidestep Wash again. And again, he was blocked. "Tucker? Why do you look like you want to cry?" Wash signed, noting the glassy look in Tucker's eyes and the way he was clearly biting down on his lip. "Because... I do?" Tucker replied. His voice was impossibly quiet. It sounded like the first trickle of water before a flood.

"Why?"

Tucker took a shaky breath and turned away from Wash, embarrassed and ashamed at the state he was in. "Junior was going to come visit during summer break but then... T-temple happened and now n-no one's allowed to leave the planet? And it sucks because I was looking forward to it _so much_. You were finally going to get to meet my son!" Tucker threw his hands up in anger and started pacing the room. "And it sucks even more because we didn't get a chance to go see him when we were  _on_  the goddamn planet!" Tucker hissed. 

"They put Earth on lockdown?" Wash asked, furrowing his brow. Tucker crossed his arms and nodded with a sort of resignation. "Yep. No one in or out. Apparently, they're trying to cut down on the amount of psychos planning to blow them up, or something." Wash was highly skeptical of that method. He knew very well that quarantining the planet didn't rule out the possibility of moles already on the planet. But he didn't say anything. There was no use making Tucker feel worse than he already did.

Wash caught Tucker by the wrist and stopped him from pacing anymore. "I'm sorry," he signed, before tugging on Tucker's arm and pulling him into another hug, this one more tender than before. He rubbed circles into Tucker's back and let himself be relived when he felt the tension leave Tucker's shoulders. The shoulders that were nice and toned from all the sword work he did. Heh. _swordwork_. Bow chicka bow wow.

"No need to be. At least I can still video chat," he said. The last part sounded more like a question. Tucker yawned against Wash's chest and nuzzled up against him. Wash brain yelled "cat! He's like a little kitten!" before his mother instincts kicked in and he peeled himself away from Tucker to sign "Are you tired? You should head to bed." Tucker gave him a look that was equal parts tired and stubbornly trying to seem _not_  tired.

"You should too," he argued. "Fine," Wash signed. He let Tucker take his hand and they walked down the hall to Wash's room. Tucker went into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Wash was laying in his bed when he got back out.  Tucker took one look at Wash, sprawled out on his bed and looking very comfortable, before he followed suit. He climbed over Wash and lodged himself between the wall and Wash's chest.

"Hey. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Wash signed once Tucker had gotten comfortable. He was silent for a moment. "Really?" Tucker asked, sounding a bit apprehensive. Wash nodded. "Of course. You are worth my time," He reminded Tucker. "Yeah?" Tucker said, his voice small. "Yeah. In every way," Wash signed. He leaned over and planted a kiss on Tucker's forehead. Tucker smiled.

"You're sappy, you know that?" he teased. Wash shrugged. "I've been told I'm quite the charmer," he joked. Tucker managed a short laugh. "Yeah, you are," he said, mostly to himself. Tucker scooted closer to Wash and Turned so his back was to him. Wash wrapped his arms around Tucker and they stayed like that until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all've realized by now that when I say I'm going to stick to a schedule, I mean I'm not going to stick to that schedule in any way, shape or form.
> 
> I have never seen Tokyo Drift, so don't take Tucker's opinion as my own.
> 
> Don't forget to comment, it makes my day! ❤❤❤


	5. Pinned Up Against A Wall And Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaikaina Grif is the queen of parties and Wash isn't helpless. He does what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda rushed through his, but the next chapter should be longer and filled with more goodness. ❤❤❤

Wash's eyes snapped open after a loud thump against the wall. He heard a hiss of pain and Tucker cursed under his breath. It was still dark out, or there were clouds blocking out the star but Wash couldn't see Tucker very well. He guessed by the repeated mumblings of 'fuck' and 'goddamnit, ow' that Tucker must have hit his head against the wall.

Wash reached over and flicked on his bedside lamp. Yep, Tucker hit his head. He was holding a hand over his forehead and wincing in pain. "You okay?" Wash signed. Tucker managed a nod before laying back down and trying to sleep again. Wash knew there was no way he'd be able to, so he got out of bed and rummaged through his clothes in search of something warm. If the day promised to be like the last, he would want something cozy.

Wash grudgingly decided that the pink sequined sweater with the cats on it was the warmest thing he owned. He pulled it over his head and knocked on the doorframe on his way out. Tucker opened his eyes slightly. "Good morning," Wash signed, trying to pour as much sarcasm as he could into the gesture. Tucker flipped him off and rolled over. Fine. Wash would just go get breakfast by himself.

He stopped by Caboose's room on his way. He knocked lightly on the door and waited patiently for the door to open. Caboose wasn't the one who opened the door, however. He was greeted by the sleepy but still cheerful face of Kai, who was trying to get her hair to stop sticking up in all directions. Wash peeked over her head and saw Caboose sprawled out in a pile of pillows underneath a blanket fort. He was still fast asleep. Kai slipped out into the hallway and gave Wash a hug.

"G'mrrnin," she mumbled. "Nice sweater." Wash patted her head and hugged her quickly before pointing to Caboose's door and raising his eyebrow questioningly. Kai didn't miss a beat before responding. "Oh, that. Caboose and I made a blanket fort last night and I was supposed to go and sleep on the couch, but I guess I just passed out in there. It's super comfy, no wonder he's still asleep," she said. Kai took Wash's hand and they both walked to the kitchen.

"How have you been?" She asked, getting out Caboose's favorite cereal from a crate. Wash shrugged. He looked around for a datapad and noticed Carolina walk into the kitchen and start up a pot of coffee. Wash waved her over. "Carolina, translate please?" he asked. Carolina gave him a look that said 'it's too early for this' but she motioned for him to continue.

Wash nodded. "I'm doing fine, Kai. My neck isn't stiff anymore and I should be able to get my bandages off in a few days. From there, it's only about four weeks before I can try speaking again," he signed with a huge grin. Carolina relayed it to Kai, and her face lit up. "That's great! Cause we were really missing your karaoke skills while you were unconscious in New Armonia, right Carol?" she said.

Carolina shrugged. "I admit, I'm starting to miss our singing." Wash shook his head affectionately. "I'll sing for you when I'm healed, okay?" he signed. Carolina smiled. "You should sing for Tucker. He'd love that," she teased. Wash turned his head away and tried to hide the faint blush creeping across his face.

Carolina quickly changed the subject. "Did it rain yesterday?" she asked. "The ground was really muddy when we got back." Wash nodded. "It rained a lot yesterday. I loved it. Except it was really cold and I had to walk from here to Red Base in the pouring rain," Wash signed. Carolina looked surprised. She quickly translated for Kai. "You're not feeling sick, are you?" she asked, reaching a hand out to feel Wash's forehead.

He batted Carolina's hand away. "I'm fine," he signed. She snorted. "Yeah, how many times have you said that to me? And how many times has it _actually_  been true?" She smirked at him and went to pour herself some coffee. She held a mug out to him, but Wash declined her offer. He was going to stick to Sam's herbal teas for now.

Caboose, surprisingly, came in before Tucker. Kai had taken the coffee from Carolina and was halfway done when Caboose walked up behind her and threw his arms around her shoulders. She tilted her head and rested it on his arm. "Good morning, Michael," she said.

Wash nearly choked on his tea. He stared wide-eyed at Carolina and quickly signed "Why is she calling him by his first name?" Carolina made a small sigh and turned to Kai. "He wants to know why you called him Michael," she said. Kai perked up. "Oh, I just want to try calling everyone by their first names. I already call my brother by his name, and I've started calling his boyfriend Rich 'cause Dex gets a kick out of it."

Kai reached above her head and fed Caboose a spoonful of cereal. "And I call Carolina Carol, because- well, she's never told me her name, but I'm convinced it's Carol. And come on, let's be honest, Lavernius is a kickass name," Kai said. "What? Who's kicking who's ass?" Tucker asked, entering the kitchen and sitting down next to Wash.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Wash signed. Tucker rolled his eyes at him. "Yeah yeah, whatever. What were you talking about?" he asked Kai. She gave Caboose another spoonful if cereal and continued. "I'm calling everyone by their first names because you all refuse to do it," she said. Tucker feigned surprise. "What? I call people by their first names," he argued.

"Well, I call _one_  person by his first name." Tucker made a show of pointing at Wash. "And only in private," he added in a stage-whisper. He gave Kai a wink for good measure. Wash shook his head quickly. "No no no, he doesn't. We don't- do what you're thinking. Tucker, stop giving her the wrong idea," Wash signed. Tucker smiled at him. "It's fine, I'm just joking," he explained.

Kai looked a little disappointed. "What is his name, though?" she asked. Tucker glanced over at Wash, as if asking for permission. Wash nodded to him and he leaned forward on his elbows. "His name," Tucker said, "Is David." Tucker said it in such a way that sent shivers up Wash's spine.

"David Tucker if you want to be formal." Wash smacked him on the shoulder. Tucker just snickered. "Sorry, sorry, you've gotta admit that's a nice name, though," He said. Wash gave him a blank look. "I'm not changing my name unless you get down on one knee and propose to me properly," Wash signed, keeping a deadpan expression.

Tucker was silent. He glanced over at Carolina, who gave him a little shrug, and let out a quiet laugh. "Sorry, I don't have a ring yet. I'm still waiting on my Amazon shipment," he signed with a wink. Wash smiled at him. He appreciated Tucker's sense of humor.

Carolina was silently giggling at them from across the table and gave Wash an innocent smile when he looked her way. "You two are just so cute," she signed. "So, Kai, are you thinking another beach party or what?" she asked Kai, quickly changing the subject.

Kai pushed her now empty cereal bowl away from her and rested her elbows on the table. Caboose had gotten tired of standing and was now sitting next to her. "Well, it's still muddy out and David still has his bandages on so maybe we could have it at Red Base?" She said. Caboose frowned. "Why Red Base?" he asked.

"Because it's better constructed than Blue Base and there's a projector for movies," Kai said matter-of-factly. Carolina, who couldn't deny that Red Base was better constructed, just shrugged. "That fine. If it means I don't have to clean a messy Blue Base, then by all means, Red Base it is," she said. She stood up from the table and put her coffee cup in the sink, and started walking towards the door. She moved her hand for Kai to come with her.

Kai threw up her hands in excitement and followed Carolina to the door. "It's gonna be so fun! Jensen has been helping me put together some cool ass lights and Palomo said he knew someone who-" The door closed behind them both and Kai's voice was cut off.

Wash watched them leave before turning back to Tucker. He was absently rubbing his forehead and looking around for cereal. Wash caught his eye. "Are you okay? It sounded like it hurt," he signed, referring to Tucker's injury. Tucker waved him off. "It's fine dude. It's not like I got shot in the throat," he said, giving Wash a pointed stare.

Wash held up his hands in surrender. Tucker gave a little nod, as if that was satisfying, and found his cereal. Wash was still drinking his tea and he was suddenly aware of the lack of Caboose. When had he left? Wash had just swiveled around in his chair to see if he had gone into the living room when, speak of the devil, Caboose came back through the doorway with the bag Wash had seen him carrying the night before.

"Wash! I forgot to show you yesterday but Andersmith learned to knit and he made everyone sweaters because he loves us!" Caboose shouted as he plopped down in his seat and dumped the bag out on the table. Tucker had to move his bowl of cereal to avoid it getting hit. Caboose grabbed a violently blue sweater and showed it to Wash.

The sweater was enormous, clearly made for Caboose. It said '#1 Captain' in yellow stitched letters. Wash thought it was sweet. As he sifted through the sweaters, he learned from Caboose that Andersmith had made ones for the other lieutenants as well as the rest of the Reds and Blues, even Kimball. Knitting helped him de-stress and with the hectic rebuilding of New Armonia, he needed something like that.

Wash even got a sweater. It was a bit too big, but Wash liked it that way. It was the same color as his armor and stitched on the front in yellow letters were the words 'Three more laps!' Wash tried to laugh at that, but Tucker started freaking out and asking him if he was choking.

Tucker eagerly put his sweater on as soon as he saw it. Even Caboose laughed at it. His fit perfectly. It was a pale gray, almost silvery, and it had a surprisingly accurate depiction of his energy sword with the words 'let me show you my sword'. Wash wondered if Palomo had helped come up with that. It seemed like something he would do.

Wash happily pulled off his pink cat sweater and put on the new one. It was nice and comfortable. He'd have to personally thank Andersmith when he went to Chorus. He suddenly wanted to see what Red Team's sweaters looked like. He'd have to wait until the party.

* * *

 

Kai's parties were always fun. Even when it was just them, just the same handful of people Wash had known for ten years, it was so much fun. They would get drunk, dance to whatever music and talk about their problems. But mostly the first two, because honestly their communication skills could always use some work.

Grif had challenged Doc of all people to a game of Twister (where did they even get it from?) and Simmons was laughing his ass off while he fiddled with the spinner. Donut was trying to get Lopez to dance with him and Wash could have sworn he saw Sarge with his hand carding lazily through Sam's hair.

Wash was leaning against the wall in the kitchen with a glass of water in his hand. He had just gotten himself out of a conversation with Caboose and Kai about which kind of dog was the best and honestly he needed a break. Tucker was with him, sitting on the counter across from him, kicking his feet lazily and and swirling around the last dregs of a bottle of moonshine.

He looked at it with a sour expression before tapping the empty bottle with his fingernail and hopping down from the counter. "Well, I'm gonna go get more moonshine. See you later, Wash." He waved lazily to Wash and made to start leaving.

"I'd join you, but I fear for my throat," Wash signed with a wry smile. "It's cool, trust me," Tucker assured him with a wave of his hand. Wash grinned at him. "But you need -someone- to keep you from passing out in the warthog," he signed.  Tucker looked offended. He put one hand on his hip and scoffed. "Hey. That was _one_  time," he argued. Wash winked at him. "I was kidding," he signed.

Tucker's jaw dropped. He made a huge show of gasping. "Washington is _kidding_? What happened to Agent 'Leg Day is important?'" He said playfully, taking three steps closer to Wash. 

"He lost his voice," Wash signed with a deadpan expression. Tucker visibly winced. "Oh... Sorry. Too soon," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. A heavy silence took over, the only sound being the thumping of bass drums up on the roof. "Y'know... I kinda liked that voice," Tucker said off-handedly. It took Wash a second to remember what he was talking about.

"What?" He asked. Tucker shrugged, clearly trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal. "You know, your drill sergeant voice. The one you used when I didn't do enough laps around the canyon?"

Wash went silent for a moment. Slowly, a frown formed on his face. "Were you-" Tucker cut him off suddenly. "Yeah. I wimped out on purpose... Sometimes. I just..." He stopped, at a loss for words. "I wanted to hear that voice. God, I want to hear your voice right now." He stepped even closer, so close they were almost touching and he loosely draped his arms around Wash's shoulders. 

"I want to hear you ask me what I'm doing. I want to hear you ask me how much I've had to drink." He moved his right arm to rest against the wall behind Wash. He leaned close to Wash's ear and lowered his voice. "I want to hear what David Washington sounds like when he's pinned up against a wall and helpless."

Wash gave him a look that said 'I'm not helpless and you know it'. "I want to hear you use that voice and tell me to kiss you," Tucker finished, without missing a beat.

Wash tensed. Tucker was drunk, right? He had to be. But... He didn't seem like he was. His eyes had the same intensity they always did, they were focused and resolute. His arm was steady against the wall and he was practically standing on his tiptoes to get on eye-level with Wash.

It was just one kiss. What harm could it do? They were rational adults who could kiss each other if they wanted to. And, to be honest, Wash kind of wanted to. Maybe he had for a while, but Tucker was standing so close to him and flicking his eyes curiously across Wash's face.

So why not?

He surprised himself as much as he surprised Tucker by grabbing him by the shoulders and half-lifting him off the ground, leaning down and pressing their lips together in what _should_  have been a swift kiss.

Of course Tucker wouldn't make it that simple. He quickly got his fingers tangled in Wash's hair (which he should have gotten cut a long time ago) and refused to let go. He didn't deepen the kiss, apparently realizing that Wash was still holding back. He did, however, move his cheek against Wash's and make a content little humming noise.

"Dude. Never shave your beard. It's hot as fuck," Tucker mumbled, his voice muffled against Wash's jaw. Wash's breath _didn't_  get caught in his throat just then. He _didn't_  immediately decide to keep his beard in that moment just because of something Tucker said while he was intoxicated.

And he definitly _didn't_  give Samuel Ortez a death glare because he just walked into the kitchen and stopped cold in the doorway. Tucker moved away a fraction of an inch and turned to look at whatever made Wash so mad. He tried to let out a sigh, but all that came out was a pissed off growl.

"Of course. Way to ruin the mood," he mumbled, stepping back from Wash and absently smoothed down his sweater. "What do you want?" Tucker demanded, sparing a glance at Sam, who looked like he was bearing the embarrassment of all three of them. "... Just a- O'Malley dumped a bottle of water on Donut's head for being t- Why don't I just-" He leaned over and grabbed the entire roll of paper towels off the counter.

Tucker ran his fingers briefly through his hair. "Okay. _Now_  I'm going to get plastered with Kai and fall asleep in Caboose's pillow fort." Tucker turned on his heel and exited the kitchen, looking like he was going spontaneously combust from embarrassment. Wash sent Sam a warning look. Sam held his hands up in surrender and slowly backed away without a word, taking the paper towel roll with him. When he was gone, Wash let the tension out of his shoulders and leaned against the counter. His lips were still tingling from the kiss.

Goddamn Tucker's inherent ability to know _exactly_  what he liked.

Carolina came and found him, claimed he was sulking, and dragged him onto the roof to dance. Caboose had a memory stick with Church's ~~_Alpha's_~~  favorite songs and was playing that in Kai's absence. She danced like she had in the first years of Freelancer. Like she was unbreakable. Like she was a force to be reckoned with.

Wash finally retired when faint starlight could be seen over the tops of the mountains. He went to sleep happy and only a little regretful. Regretful because he didn't see Tucker at all after he fled the kitchen, and because he had to see Dr. Grey the next day and she wasn't going to be thrilled knowing he only got five hours of sleep.

Wash woke up to an empty bed. It felt... Lonely. He had gotten so used to Tucker crawling into his bed every night that his absence left a cold void. Wash stretched his arms and got out of bed. He figured he should go find Tucker and make sure he wasn't... Being weird about the kiss.

Or... Wash thought, peeking out of his doorway and tiptoeing down the hall to the kitchen. Maybe he could just go get breakfast and head to Chorus for his appointment with Dr. Grey. Yeah. Yeah, that was better. He didn't want to be late, after all. Wash pulled on his armor and headed out of the base to get Sam to take him to Chorus. Tucker would probably be tired with a hangover, and the last thing he would want to do was decipher Wash's signs with a pounding headache. He was being kind. It wasn't because he was secretly wary of how Tucker would react.

Wash _wasn't_  avoiding him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment! ❤❤❤ You make me feel love sand encourage me to write more! ❤❤❤


	6. Someone Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash goes to see Dr. Grey and Tucker gets worried.

The flight to New Armonia was the most awkward hour and a half that Wash could remember. It was mostly wary glances from Locus and a few raised eyebrows. He once tried to start a conversation, but it stopped short because Wash began rambling on in ASL and Locus got extremely lost.

Wash spent the rest of the silent flight thinking about how pissed Tucker was going to be when he realized Wash left without saying goodbye. His trip wouldn't last the day, but Tucker had... Issues and he preferred it when they all said goodbye before leaving the planet. 

New Armonia was doing well. Wash didn't exactly take in the sights last time he was there, but it was starting to feel like an actual civilized city. There was a grocery store, more than a few repair shops, even a movie theater, which had been renovated from the ammunitions store it had been before. And even before it was ammo, it had been an aquarium supply store. Weird.

Wash saw Palomo and the rest of Tucker's aqua squad strolling down the street towards him. Palomo had his arm in a sling. Wash's first (mother) instinct was to make sure he was okay and maybe scold him for being so reckless, but he restrained himself long enough to meet them.

"Hey, Wash!" Palomo called, waving with his uninjured hand. Wash waved back and pointed to his throat, shaking his head back and forth. One of the others, Kyle, nodded with understanding. "Oh. You can't speak because of your injury, right," she said. Wash smiled and gave her a thumbs up.

"No problem. I take it you're going to see Dr. Grey?" Palomo asked. Wash nodded quickly and pointed at Palomo's bad arm, gesturing wildly and wishing he could properly ask what the FUCK happened to him. "Oh this? I was helping stock the grocery store and I fell off a ladder. No big deal, it's just a fracture. I'll be good to go in three weeks," he said.

Wash frowned. Fractured bones were a bitch. Sometimes worse than plain broken ones. But he had somewhere to be and he had to be there on time. He gave Palomo a smile and a reassuring shoulder pat as he passed them.

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, he was at Dr. Grey's new infirmary door. Wash didn't even get a chance to knock before she opened the door and faked surprise. "Washington, how have you been?" she said as she ushered him inside and almost pushed him onto one of the small, rickety cots.

Wash paused in the middle of signing "I'm doing fine." Dr. Grey snapped her fingers and turned around, rummaging through a supply crate/makeshift filing cabinet on the floor. "Oh, right. Here you go," she said, passing him a datapad.

Wash flexed his fingers a few times before typing away. He had gotten quicker. "I've been doing surprisingly well. Still a tad stiff in the neck, and I can't run for long periods of time, breathing gets difficult," he wrote. Dr. Grey nodded contemplatively. "Well, that's better than expected. Don't worry about your breathing, I assure you it's healing fine. Speaking of, let's see how your wounds are doing," she said, her hands itching to examine.

Wash tilted his head to the side and let her take off the bandages. She made an interesting little gasp when she exposed his scars to the cool air of the infirmary. Wash couldn't tell if that was a good or a bad thing. Either way, he ended up typing "They're healing okay?" Dr. Grey nodded. Mhmm! You're doing well, Washington." She looked down at a small notepad.

Wash watched her flip through a few pages and frown. He cocked his head at her, a silent question. She waved him off. "It's nothing. Sarge wrote some notes down in here is all and I can't read his handwriting," she said fondly. Wash smiled to himself. It wasn't every day you saw Emily Grey happy about something she wasn't about to dissect.

Dr. Grey asked him a few more generic questions. "Are you eating healthy?" Yes. "Are you getting enough sleep?" ...Yes. And then the infirmary descended into silence while Dr. Grey searched for a missing file. Wash quietly typed away on the datapad and flipped it around to show her when she turned to him.

"So what's with you and Sarge? Are you two a thing?"

Dr. Grey snorted. She started to chuckle. Then she broke out into full-on tittering laughter. "Oh, hahahahaha! Sarge and I aren't romantically involved. He told me he has eyes for someone else." Wash furrowed his brow at that. "Don't get me wrong, we're good friends and he can be a lot of help around here, but there's nothing between us," Dr. Grey assured him with a smile.

Wash nodded slowly. Well... One mystery solved?

"I think you're good to go, Washington. You can keep your bandages off. Don't try to speak. And get some sleep, for goodness' sake," Dr. Grey said. She peeled off her medical gloves and dumped them in an unmarked bin. Wash stood up and handed her the datapad. "Come back if anything goes horribly wrong!" she called to him as he closed the door.

* * *

 

Sam was waiting near the ship with a sour expression when Wash got back. He wordlessly boarded and waited for Wash to strap in before he took off for Reprise. The flight back was deathly silent. It didn't take a genius to realize that Sam was in a bad mood and Wash didn't want to aggravate him. So silence it was. That wasn't so bad.

Halfway through the flight back Wash was idly tracing his scars with a delicate touch. They felt soft and itchy. They couldn't heal fast enough, in his opinion. His mind wandered to a few nights before when Tucker asked him to admit to being fragile. He did. He was. Fragile and broken. One of these days, Wash supposed, he was going to get hurt and he wasn't going to get better.

When they landed back on Reprise Wash took his sweet time walking back to Blue Base. He spotted Kai, Caboose and Donut sitting on a huge boulder making what looked like flower crowns. He really wanted to join them... Maybe later. Wash thought he should probably make sure Tucker knew he wasn't dead. The two hundred feet to the front door felt like miles.

Wash cracked open the door a peeked inside. No one seemed to be home. Maybe Tucker and Carolina went for a swim? Wash stepped inside and kicked off his shoes. The lights were all on. Someone was definitely home.

"Wash?" Tucker called from the kitchen. "You back, dude?" He sounded calm. Weird. Wash was sure he'd be freaking out just a little bit. Wash padded into the kitchen and smiled at Tucker. Tucker looked up at him and almost dropped the cheese sandwich he was making. "Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" Tucker shouted. "I thought you died, Wash." Wash looked sheepish.

"I didn't want to wake you?" he signed. Tucker sensed the question mark in his signs. "Bullshit. You didn't want to talk to me." he said. Wash started. Okay, Tucker was more perceptive than he gave him credit for. "Because you're being weird about the kiss." Tucker dusted his hands off and placed them firmly on his hips. Uh oh. That was Tucker's power pose. It looked intimidatingly adorable on someone so short.

"And that's cool, because you're weird about that kind of shit all the time, but I-" Tucker stopped. He dropped his arms limply at his sides. Power pose gone. His jaw went slack as he stared at Wash's neck. Right, the bandages. Tucker strode forward and grabbed Wash's right hand. "You got your bandages off?" he asked as quietly as he could while still being audible. Wash nodded carefully.

Tucker walked up to him warily. His gaze flicked over Wash's face, no doubt checking for any signs of pain or guilt or hidden feelings, all of which Wash most definitely had written all over his face, ingrained in every pore of his skin. Wash swallowed thickly. "I'm doing fine," he signed before Tucker could even ask. "Dr. Grey said so," he added.

"Yeah? Yeah, you probably are," Tucker mumbled distractedly. "But you saying so and it actually being true are different things, Wash," he said. Wash self-consciously ran a hand over his neck. His scars were still tender but they were healing. He was going to be fine. He WAS fine. Tucker was just being dramatic.

Hmmm, where did he get that from?

Wash left Tucker to brood over the sandwich by himself and retreated back to his bedroom. He could use a nap. Hell, he could use several years of sleep. Wash stopped in the bathroom to scrub his face clean and brush his teeth. He gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror.

The last whispers of his dyed blonde hair were still visible at the ends of the spiky mess atop his head. He should probably trim his beard soon, it was looking more 'wilderness explorer' and less 'laid-back ex-freelancer'. He was going gray at his temples. It looked cool, if he didn't think too much about the events that made it happen. It made him look distinguished.

Wash turned away from the mirror before he could fall into another 'what have I done with my life?' existential crisis. He put on the most comfortable shirt he could find (incidentally one of Church's old Blue Team jerseys) and crawled into bed. He stayed still for a minute, rolled over to his other side, rolled back. His eyes stayed painfully open the whole time.

Wash thought it would be easier to fall asleep. He, of all people, should be allowed to take a goddamn nap, right? But he just laid in the gray, shadowy darkness of his room with the blinds pulled tightly shut and a severe lack of... Something. Something that could help him go to sleep.

Wash sat up, rubbing the back of his neck absently, right over the mess of his implants. What had changed recently? He had been sleeping better, why was that? What did he have that he didn't before?

"Hey Wash?" Tucker said softly from the other side of his door. "Sorry for being an asshole earlier," he said. Wash scrambled out of bed. That was it! He opened his door, wearing a big smile and signed "Tucker, I need a nap!" Tucker stepped back from the door. "Um... Okay. I'll go," he started. Wash shook his head quickly. "No no no, stay!" he signed, dragging Tucker into his room.

"I couldn't sleep," he signed. "And then I realized that you've helped me go to sleep for the past few weeks so-" he glanced up at Tucker. "Lay down with me?" he asked. Tucker cracked a smile. "Okay," he said. Wash relaxed. He crawled back into bed and Tucker laid down next to him. "So... I'm the reason you've been getting decent sleep, huh?" he wondered.

Wash turned over to he faced Tucker. "Yeah," he signed. "I feel safer. Like I can sleep as long as I want and not be in danger." Tucker smirked. "Not to ruin the moment, but you live with a giant man who can pick up half of Red Team and throw them across the beach, an unbelievably badass ex-freelancer who will not hesitate to fuck someone up and a pretty cool dad with a glowing alien sword. You felt unsafe before?" he asked.

Wash shrugged. "I guess it was mostly just bad dreams. It was never the thought of people from the outside... Just my own problems on the inside," he signed. "Wow, that was actually really deep, I kinda surprised myself with that." Tucker shifted on the bed, moving his foot to poke Wash in the leg. "You're a wild ride, Mr. Washington," Tucker mumbled.

"What happened to calling me 'David' when we're alone?" Wash teased. He poked Tucker back, harder. Tucker blew out a breath. "That was a joke," he admitted. Wash shrugged again. "I don't mind it, actually. I don't hear my name often," he signed. Tucker withdrew his foot. "Really? If I start calling you that you aren't going to be weird about it?" he asked. Wash paused. "No," he signed hesitantly.

Tucker scooted closer to awash, effectively trapping him between the wall and himself. "Okay then, David," Tucker said, his voice low. "How are you feeling?" he asked. Wash backed up until he was flush against the cold wall. "Fine," he signed. Tucker blinked at him. "Really? I'm not buying it," he said. "How about when I do THIS?" he asked, lightly prodding at the skin around Wash's scars. Wash drew a sharp breath.

"Fine," he signed. Tucker frowned at him. "Liar," he whispered, drawing circles around the tender flesh. Wash huffed at him, turned his head away, tried to ignore how flushed he was getting. Tucker moved his had around to the back of Wash's neck, over his implant site. That got him a little jolt out of Wash, whose eyes snapped open to look at him. Tucker smiled smiled at him. He wasn't prepared for Wash to lean into the contact, moving his arm up to trap Tucker's hand between his own.

Wash sighed heavily, his eyes fluttering closed again. Tucker kept his hand on Wash's implants, warm and stable, but the exit wound in Wash's neck looked _really bad_. Tucker leaned closer to Wash, curled up against him. He tucked his face into the crook of Wash's neck, his hot breath ghosting over his scars. Wash shuddered. Even in the dark, Tucker could make out an embarrassed smile on Wash's face. Tucker moved his leg and tangled it with Wash's. Wash tensed. His smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. He took his hand away from his implants. "I need to sleep," Wash signed, squirming away from Tucker's leg.

"Excuses, Wash," Tucker purred. Wash stared Tucker down, his expression hardening. Tucker backed off. He slid over to the end of the bed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbled. He was just trying to deafen the sharp silence that rang in his ears whenever he looked at Wash, smiling and happy and then at his scars. Vivid reminders, raw and fragile. He thought maybe if he readily embraced them he'd get desensitized faster.

"I just need to be close to someone right now," Tucker said into the silence. Tucker shut his eyes and listened to Wash moving around. He felt the mattress shift and a warm body pressed against his back. Wash reached his arm around and pulled Tucker as close to him as he could. His breathing was steady and grounding, the sound of his heartbeat exactly what Tucker needed. He hoped it was exactly what Wash needed too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm B A C K !  
> Don't forget to leave a comment! Feedback is also appreciated! ❤❤❤


	7. Thank You with a Kiss

Wash awoke to Tucker’s warm breath ghosting over his cheeks. Tucker was curled in on himself, facing Wash and still peacefully sleeping. His nose was so close it barely brushed against Wash’s when he breathed. Tucker had really nice features, wash observed. Up close he could see the beauty mark beneath his right eye and how thick and long his eyelashes were.

Tucker was beautiful.

Wash wished he could stay and stare at Tucker forever. Wait, did he really wish that? He wished he could stay in bed all day and sleep as long as he wanted and curl up with Tucker's arms around him because he was so warm all the time and-

A loud crash and a shout from Caboose in the living room brought Wash out of his thoughts. Then a silence and another crash. “Oh no,” Caboose said. He really didn't want to have to deal with that. Something was probably on fire. Maybe Caboose himself. Again. And what on earth had be broken? Wash hoped it wasn't anything irreplaceable. He quietly slipped out of bed and tugged on a pullover hoodie with ‘Harvard Law’ on it. None of the Reds or Blues had ever attended and none of them knew where it came from.

Caboose was standing in the middle of the room when Wash got to the kitchen and he was surrounded by tiny glass shards. The ceiling light was out. The lightbulb wasn't in it. Kaikaina Grif was sitting on Caboose's shoulders. Wash facepalmed. He leveled them both with a stare, one eyebrow raised just the right amount to ask “what the hell happened here and how much will it cost?”

Kai opened her mouth to explain but Caboose beat her to it. “The lightbulb went out so we tried to put a new one in but Kaikaina dropped it and then she dropped the one we were gonna put in and now I can't move because I'm not wearing any shoes and I'm going to get hurt.”

Wash closed his eyes, counted to seven and took a deep breath. “Okay,” he signed to himself. “Okay, this is fine.” He scanned the floor to assess how bad the glass shards were. Most of it had turned to a fine dust. Wash wanted to hit something. Or shoot something. He told Caboose, using only generic hand gestures which he understood, to stay exactly where he was and went to find a vacuum cleaner. Caboose tightened his grip on Kai’s legs. “I'm sorry,” he said. Kai patted the top of his head. “It's cool. I'm the one who dropped them after all,” she said.

“Do you want me to braid your hair while I'm up here?” she asked.

* * *

 

Wash stopped in his room to pull on a pair of sneakers that may or may not have been Tucker's. He didn't really care, there was glass dust all over the kitchen floor. Tucker opened one eye and watched him move around the room, visibly tense. “What's up, Wash?” he asked. Wash waved his hand around. “Oh, you know, the usual. Kai dropped lightbulbs on the floor from on top of Caboose's shoulders,” he signed.

Tucker sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Why do we even have lightbulbs here? Chorus has those cool LED strips everywhere, why are we using ancient technology?” Wash had his hand on the doorknob and paused. “I really can't answer that. You'll have to ask Kimball,” he signed on his way out. “Wait, Wash-” Tucker started, but Wash had already left. He grumbled quietly to himself as he got out of bed and snuck into his own room to get changed.

Wash was able to get the glass safely vacuumed away and Caboose and Kai occupied by the time Carolina stumbled into the considerably darker kitchen looking like hell itself. Her hair was plastered to one side of her face and she was walking around with her eyes still half-closed. Wash glanced at the large analog clock Caboose had hung in the living room. It was basically noon. Carolina never slept in. Not even when Kimball had visited that time to ‘see how they're doing’ and spent every waking and sleeping moment within arm’s reach of Carolina.

Wash had a cup of coffee in front of her by the time she had made her way to the table. He quietly sipped his tea and waited for her to explain, well, anything. She took her sweet time, smoothing down her hair, savoring the too-sweet coffee, which she never did. Eventually, it may have been years as far as Wash was concerned, she cleared her throat. “Do you how long ago you left for your appointment, Washington?” she asked. Wash’s eyes widened. She was using his full name. What had he done? Wash slowly held up his hand, all five fingers extended. He had probably been gone about five hours, right? Carolina nodded, her movements terrifyingly controlled.

“And do you know how many times, in that five hours, Tucker asked if I knew where you were?” Carolina asked. Wash shook his head, feeling more and more like a cornered animal. Carolina finished the last of her coffee and slammed the mug on the table so hard Wash was surprised it didn't shatter. “Seventy-four times, Wash. Seventy-four separate times.” Wash covered his face with his hands. He really wished he could scream. When he looked back up, Carolina was laying on the couch with one arm slung over her face and Kai and Caboose were glancing over at her with worried expressions.

Wash needed to talk to Tucker. For several reasons. Why would it be okay to pester Carolina like that? Sure, he had left without saying anything (so had εpsilon, if you wanted to get technical. No, recordings didn't count. Fucking asshole) but he was a grown ass man and he didn't need to tell anyone if he wanted to go somewhere. Also, it was Carolina, for fuck’s sake. Anyone would be insane to ask her anything that many times.

Wash sighed, brought his tea mug to the sink and headed out of the kitchen and down the hall towards Tucker's room. He made sure to knock first, having long ago acquired the instinct after angrily throwing open Tucker's door one too many times. It was like that man never wore clothes unless he was in armor. That was back in Crash Site Alpha, though. He'd gotten better about wearing shorts, at the very least, around Wash. And he'd graciously left everything on during their nap.

Tucker opened his door slowly, peeking out to see who it was. Wash sent him a wry smile and signed “we need to talk.” Tucker wrinkled his nose at Wash. “About what, the fact that you seemed _so_ eager to get away from me earlier?” he asked. wash looked startled. “No, I wasn't-” He frowned. “I wasn't avoiding you or anything, I was helping Caboose clean up glass from the floor,” he signed. Tucker only looked half-convinced. “Fine, come in and say your piece,” he said, resigned. Wash stepped into his room and unconsciously breathed in deeply.

Tucker seemed to always smell like a tropical forest, somehow. It was probably his shampoo, Wash had seen it in the showers. It had a ridiculously extravagant name like ‘Exotic Paradise’ or ‘Vacation on a Planet Four Million Light Years Away.’ Wash closed his eyes and tried to imagine that vacation. All he was met with was the memory of burying his face in the crook of Tucker’s neck late at night, surrounded by warmth and Tucker’s short curls tickling his face.

“Are you gonna get on with it, Wash?” Tucker urged him. He was sitting on the edge of his bed when Wash opened his eyes again. Wash glanced down at the floor, embarrassed. “Yeah, okay,” he signed. “You know I'm okay, right Tucker?” Tucker raised an eyebrow. “You didn't need to pester Carolina while I was gone, it was just a checkup,” he continued. “Okay, but I just-” Tucker started. “Why do you feel like you have to take care of me all the time?” Wash asked. Tucker sighed. “Because I care about you. And because you almost died. And because-” He shrugged. “I just think you're hot, Wash,” he said nonchalantly.

Oh. That was new, but nice. The last time Wash remembered someone telling him he was hot was Dr. Grey when he was running a fever of 104. Wash supposed he was close to that now, too. He could feel a pleasant blush spreading across his face at Tucker’s words. He surprised himself with the thought that he liked when Tucker did that. So much so that he wanted to do the same. Wash slowly and deliberately signed “Thank you,” relishing the look he got back.

Wash knew exactly what he was doing. He usually signed with his fingers on his chin. It was polite, if a bit impersonal and Wash wasn't stupid enough not to change the way he signed it just for Tucker. He signed from his lips. It looked like he was blowing a kiss. Maine always signed ‘thank you’ like that. No matter who it was. He had gotten a laugh out of nearly the entire alpha team when he signed it to the Counselor. Wash smiled to himself at the memory. Oh, the look on Aiden Price’s face. It was… priceless.

Tucker sent him a lopsided smirk. “Okay,” he said, half to himself. “Okay, okay, that's good. Uh,” Wash was only a little surprised that Tucker seemed more flustered than he. “I'll see you later?” he asked awkwardly. Wash just nodded, leaving Tucker to slowly back out of the room. Wash could practically see the heat in his cheeks.

Wash took his time wandering back into the kitchen and he was pleasantly surprised to see Grif and Carolina, both in the kitchen, bickering over chopped vegetables. He stole a flance at Caboose's enormous analog clock that was hanging in the living room. It was well into the afternoon. He silently congratulated himself on the long nap he had taken and went to hover over the two making food, a small smile on his face the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment and leave kudos! It really makes me happy! ❤❤❤
> 
> Hey, do you want to draw something for one of my fics? If so, just do it. I'd absolutely love to see it! You can hit me up on Tumblr @the-rvb-writer but I'm not on that often so I might not see it. Alternatively, you can just put a link in the comments and I will scream over how beautiful it is before putting it in the fic and screaming about you in the notes.


	8. ILY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker does some introspection, to the benefit of himself and Wash, it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so short, I'm so sorry but I have to finish this.

Tucker climbed into Wash’s bed a few nights later with a few apologetic mumbles and a gentle brush of his thumb of Wash’s cheek to calm him down and wipe the tears off his face. “Sorry. I forgot you sleep better with me here,” he whispered with a small smile. Wash nodded numbly and pressed his face against Tucker's chest, curling in on himself, his legs sliding in between Tucker’s as he relished the warmth.

Tucker could get used to this, sleeping next to Wash every night and waking up to his sleepy face, the way his hair stuck up on his right side and sometimes he would pull his sleeves over his hands because his fingers got cold and then he would look at Tucker with this _gaze_ that reminded him that Wash was still dangerous, even with both his hands curled in his sleeves and his feet tucked under his legs and Tucker thought that both sides of him were beautiful. His soft, sleepy side made everything feel domestic and so normal but when he made Tucker go run laps or lift weights like there was still a war going on and he gave Tucker that look, somehow that was also normal. Either way, both ways, Wash was something beautiful and Tucker wanted to keep him all to himself if he could.

Wash’s nightmares got easier to manage as the nights progressed and the Gucci bags under his eyes slowly diminished. He smiled an average of 2.3 more times a day, according to Simmons, and he would stare at Tucker from across the room with a content look on his face, every once in a while sighing like he hadn't had this much clean air in years. That was true, the air thing. He and Caboose had a very long conversation over breakfast about the air quality on the Moon versus the Mother of Invention. Carolina translated.

Tucker not so secretly cherished Wash’s staring and he swore that man's sighs were lovestruck. Grif didn't argue with him when he was told either, just nodded. “Yeah, Wash has it bad. I can practically see the hearts in his eyes.” Tucker glanced over at Grif. “You think so? Like, if I told him I want to bone and also just hold hands and kiss you don't think he'd be freaked out?” Grif shrugged. “As long as you two don't bone in front of me, I don't care what you do.” He stood up to take his leave. “You sound like a middle school girl, by the way.”

Tucker _did_ sound like a middle school girl, he figured. Like, since when did he think about holding hands and kissing as a viable relationship option? He was Lavernius Tucker. Bow chicka bow wow? The thing was, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he had never thought he liked guys until- until Blood Gulch. Then his ass was screwed because he had a little crush on this sky blue private who couldn't aim for shit. Then he died, came back, died again and Tucker had an identity crisis in his head, during which time he thought he was gay, then bi and then decided he'd fuck just about anyone who was down, regardless of whether they were a guy, a girl or a fucking alien.

Tucker was Pansexual and he lowkey wanted a pride flag to hang in his room because come on, he was in his thirties and just now realized it. It was never too late to embrace his queerness. Back to Wash now. Wash was Tucker's second conscious crush on a guy and made him feel warm and fuzzy inside and that was an odd feeling for a two-time galactic hero. He had witnessed his fair share of gruesome deaths, many of which were conducted by none other than mister ex-freelancer and Tucker still thought he was adorable when he went to drink his tea even when he knew it was too hot and burned his tongue. Yeah, Tucker was gonna hit that. Hard.

Wash was staring at him again, his head tilted just so and Tucker was resting his head on his hands in the most seductive way possible over the back of the couch. Wash was nodding ansently in response to whatever Kai was talking about, it involved a lot of rude gestures, but he wasn't paying attention. Tucker got sneaky and started signing things to him to try and make him laugh, but they all fell flat and the most he got was a twitch of Wash’s mouth. Tucker wanted to kiss that mouth. He wanted to run his fingers through Wash’s beard just because he could and he wanted to relax on the couch with his head on Wash’s lap because he _loved_ Wash.

He really did. Wash had saved his life so many times and Tucker didn't doubt he'd do it again and honestly Tucker wouldn't hesitate either. He had to make up for Wash’s injury someday. Tucker smiled at Wash from over Kai’s shoulder and sent him a small hand gesture. His pinky and index finger extended, the other two curled into his palm and his thumb opened up. He wiggled his hand at Wash and added a wink because he _could_ , okay, and Wash’s response was to slowly turn red and hide a huge embarrassed smile with his hands. Tucker stood up from the couch and walked slowly around it to the kitchen table where Kai was giving them both a look.

“I don't know what's happening, but I'm gonna ignore it and go make out with Michael, bye,” she mumbled. As weird as it was that Kai didn't find the obvious tension between them hot, Tucker couldn't bring himself to care. He sat down across from Wash and saw his smile quickly fall. “What was that?” Wash asked. Tucker cocked his head and made the hand gesture again. “You mean this?” he asked innocently. Wash frowned. “You know what that means, right?” he signed. “Why are you-” Tucker cut him off. “It's a shorthand for ‘I Love You’, the fingerspelling for I,L and Y all together. Why do you ask?” Tucker studied Wash’s face after that. He looked like he expected to be laughed at in a moment.

“Tucker, why did you sign that?” Wash signed and Tucker almost missed it because Wash used the name sign he suggested, a T followed by the sign for sword. It made him want to smile but Wash’s face made him force it down. “Why do you think, dude, because I do. I love you. I think.” It felt weird to say it out loud, but Tucker was almost positive. He'd be content to spend the rest of his life with Wash. The man was nearly everything he wanted and that was just as much of a surprise to Tucker as the simple fact that he loved Wash." Wash put his face in his hands and groaned, making Tucker stop. He started panicking, then quickly spiraling. Maybe Wash didn't like him, maybe he was fooling himself too, maybe he didn't even like Wash, he was lying to himself and he's been straight the whole time and he was rushing into it, plenty of other people had saved his life and-

“I thought it was too good to be true,” Wash signed, a lopsided grin on his face. Tucker's heartbeat slowed. “I thought I was being too hopeful but…” he sighed. “You do so much for me. You _have_ done so much. I can actually sleep through the night when you're there, you make me feel like a person again, I know it sounds weird. For the longest time I still thought you didn't like guys.”

Wash reached over and squeezed Tucker's hand. “I have never been more happy to be wrong,” he signed. Tucker's mouth hung open as his eyes flicked over Wash’s rapid signs. Everything felt like it was slipping into place. It felt effortless and easy and- too easy. Tucker pinched himself on the arm before he could think better of it. Not dreaming. Wash was- “You're serious?” he breathed. Wash shrugged. “I mean, I think I am. Let's see how this goes, right? Fuck it,” he signed. Tucker smiled back, a breathy sigh escaping his lips. "Yeah, let's see how it goes, David."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do y'all feel about me upping the rating and subsequently the content, especially since Tucker totally wants to fuck Wash? I'm saying this because this fic is the perfect opportunity for me to try actually writing more explicit scenes to see how well I can do so and where I need to improve. It's all a learning curve, by dudes.
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment and kudos, it makes me so happy! ❤❤❤
> 
> Hey, do you want to draw something for one of my fics? If so, just do it. I'd absolutely love to see it! You can hit me up on Tumblr @the-rvb-writer but I'm not on that often so I might not see it. Alternatively, you can just put a link in the comments and I will scream over how beautiful it is before putting it in the fic and screaming about you in the notes.


	9. Epilogue

The next few weeks found Wash and Tucker practically glued to each other. There was barely a moment where they weren't together. Their evenings were spent huddled close together, Tucker whispering anything and everything in Wash's ear and Wash always made sure his hand found Tucker's and held on tight. In the mornings Tucker awoke to the smell of coffee and was almost as happy as Wash when he learned that Wash's throat was feeling better with every passing day.

Wash found himself startled awake in the dead of night, his heart in his throat. Something was different. He shook Tucker awake by his shoulder and sat him up in bed. Tucker's first thought was that something was wrong. But then he saw Wash's ghost of a smile and gently cupped his face. "Wash, what's going on?" he whispered. Wash fit his hands over Tucker's and opened his mouth. "Tucker, I love you." His voice was beyond hoarse, so quiet Tucker barely heard him, but it was _there_. Wash squeezed Tucker's hands as he just sat in awe. Tucker had nearly forgotten how much he missed Wash's voice. "I love you too," Tucker found himself saying and Wash leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Wash fell back asleep with a smile on his face and he dreamer about greeting Carolina in the morning and what she'd say, how bright would Caboose's smile be? The morning couldn't come quickly enough, but he had Tucker's warmth at his back and strong arms wrapped around him, so maybe it wasn't that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had to cut this fic short for a number of reasons:
> 
> I lost most of my inspiration after about four chapters  
> I've fallen out of Tuckington a little bit  
> Working on this was no longer as enjoyable as it was when I started it
> 
> I'd rather end it now than trudge through another 8k words and leave all of you unsatisfied. I hope the previous chapter wasn't too lackluster and that this little epilogue makes up for it. I didn't get to do as much as I wanted with this but none of it was going to happen in a satisfying way and I really tried but in the end I just couldn't keep going.
> 
> Thank you all for reading this and sticking with me, you made this worth it and I don't know where I'd be without your lovely comments and kudos. Maybe I'll revisit this in the future, but I think I'll probably just move on to better things.
> 
> I want to go into the new year with a blank slate. I want to have this and Great Distraction finished so I can focus on other things. I want to start something and post it to completion before I start something else. One after the other, so I don't get dragged down by five different projects at once.
> 
> I want a lot of things and I hope that all of you, my wonderful readers, will stick with me through it and I really whole you find as much joy in reading my fics as I find in writing it. I love you all, happy holidays and let's make 2019 an amazing year! I know we can do it! ❤❤❤


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